


Redemptio

by Himmelreich



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Gen, changed to T rating in retrospect since quite some violence happens, how do ratings work ahhh, post episode 24
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 50,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3698549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himmelreich/pseuds/Himmelreich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>War may have ended, but there are still battles that have yet to be fought and scores to be settled, and in the face of a dawning crisis, Inaho decides to try and attempt cooperation with the one person who is neither friend nor foe but nothing more than a name left to the records of history.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>>>> Aoki-sensei said that Slaine would have to do penance and redeem himself to begin a new life, and if he does not give us Season Two to do exactly that, what can you do? June is still a long way from now, so let me indulge in even more fanfic-y endings. Though, in the end, it all boils down to one thing a dear deer has been saying since episode 7:<br/>#i ship them i broship them i want them to sink ships together #BUT NOT METAPHORICALLY #LORD I WANT THEM DO THINGS TOGETHER</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vs/039: Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a meeting is disrupted._

It is still a weird experience to walk down a hallway and see all the soldiers snap to attention at his mere sight, saluting and not daring to look at him directly.  
“At ease”, Inaho orders as he reaches the soundproof reinforced door leading to the conference room, and immediately, the guards step aside and open it for him to walk through.

“General Kaizuka reporting in.”  
Inaho salutes as soon as the door shuts again, taking a quick survey of the people turning their heads to look at him. Not even half the chairs are taken, as with all the different battlegrounds scattered around the globe, still, it is a rare occurrence that the entire leadership of the United Force is present at the same council of war in person.  
Not only that, among the soldiers standing as guards within the room he sees both the standard Terran uniforms and the double-rowed jackets of the Vers army.  
The reason for their presence is standing at the window, turning to look at him with a warm smile, one single splash of red in a room of blue.

“I’m glad you could make it, please, take a seat”, Vice Admiral Häkkinen greets him in lieu of the entire group, and Inaho follows the invitation and sits down next to General Ceruti.  
“I’m sorry to have called you here on such short notice, but I do believe you will be interested in the news that just reached us.”  
“What happened?”  
Inaho tries to assess the threat level from the others’ expressions, but it is hard to guess at their thoughts. The military had strange priorities, that much he had learned during the war, and Magbaredge did not grow tired of ranting about her short-sighted superiors whenever they met up, either.

“Our negotiations with Count Geine fell through”, Klancain speaks up, stepping back from the window and sitting down opposite of Inaho, folding his hands on the tabletop. “He refuses to hand over the territory he seized during the war to the UFE again and clearly stated he would not be negotiated with in the future.”  
“In other words, he leaves us no other choice than to resort to violence”, the general sitting next to Häkkinen growls, a man Inaho had not met before.

Klancain’s face twists in what is obviously grief over the situation.  
“I wish I had returned with better news, please be assured of the fact that the Vers Empire will provide as much assistance as you need in order to resolve this matter.”  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to intervene, Your Highness”, Inaho disagrees, and is aware of the attention of everyone on him again, as well as of the isolated noises of impatience and dismissal. Many of the veteran leaders still disregard him on principle, he has gotten used to that a long time ago.

“Your alliance with the Orbital Knights who have agreed to return their occupied territory in exchange for warranted Aldnoah privileges is brittle, please do not forget that”, Inaho continues, “and if you force them to take up arms against one of their own, I fear some would be tempted to switch sides again. Those who are not absolutely loyal to Her Highness are mainly driven by opportunism, and we can’t risk you losing their cooperation in such a critical stage.”  
“What would your rather have us do, Kaizuka, sit idly by and leave an entire continent to a dictator?”, the same general snarls again, but Häkkinen silences him with a single gesture.

“What do you suggest, then, Kaizuka-san?”, Klancain asks, leaning forward and fixing his sharp eyes on Inaho. As gentle and soft as he appears to be during public events and during the few times Inaho has seen him together with Asseylum, as calculating and rational he is during council meetings. There is a reason he attends them in her place, Inaho muses, because if there is one shortcoming to her as a leader, it is that she still cannot bring herself to sacrifice someone in cold blood. It is the people around her who volunteer to save her from the desperation and dilemma of having to make the call, and Inaho is grateful that Klancain appears to excel at it.

“Stay out of it and leave it to the United Forces”, he responds, ignoring one or two disbelieving huffs of breath from the other council members, “Not a major offensive that might stir further discord, but a small and swift operation with the strongest weapon in our arsenal to end the conflict before it can spread.”  
“You want the Deucalion”, Häkkinen almost sighs, in that certain tone of defeat that Inaho somehow tends to bring out of the man a lot.

Inaho nods, before taking up on the the other general’s muffled “Why not ask for the command to, while you’re at it?”  
“I would in fact be glad to oversee this mission, if you have no issues with that.”  
“Who do you even think-”  
“Gentlemen, please”, Ceruti interrupts, leaning in to literally block Inaho from the other general’s view, looking from one to the other with a frown.

“It’s not that simple”, Häkkinen agrees, fingers drumming on the folder lying in front of him, a copy of which had been laid out to every place. “Even with all the intel we can now access directly courtesy to the Imperial Family and their alliance, we have almost nil on this person and his weapons.”  
“Nothing on his Kataphrakt?”, one of the other generals asks, and Häkkinen shakes his head.  
“None of the reconnaissance teams sent during the war ever returned with usable data, and the fact that due to the damage done to the continent during Heaven’s Fall we retreated most of the military from Australia even before the second war certainly didn’t help.”

“Can’t you find out more about it, Your Highness?”, General Daudert asks, turning to Klancain who had watched the argument unfold with obvious confusion mirrored on his face, probably questioning how this group of people had somehow managed to win the war. Inaho can hardly hold it against him.  
“Sadly, no”, he then replies, “Count Geine keeps to himself, even regarding the other Orbital Knights, and we have only ever held meetings via transmission, as he refuses to receive us in person. I fear, what is in the folder is all the information we can provide on the matter.”

Inaho refocusses his attention from the following squabble about whether or not Her Highness should try forcing a visit in person on the renegade Knight onto his own folder, skimming through the pages. It really is dishearteningly little that is standing there, many of the data on the armoury followed by a question mark or the annotation _Assumed, going by Landing Castle standard.  
_ What is for certain is the time the Count had attacked and immediately overtaken the continent, and Inaho notes with sudden interest that he had been among the first Orbital Knights to touch down, yet never tried to widen his territory, apart from a sudden spike in activity a mere month before the end of the Second Interplanetary War.

A timeframe that coincides with a certain string of developments, Inaho thinks, and impatiently looks up to find the conversation still going in circles.  
“Pardon the interruption, Vice Admiral”, he starts, standing up to make sure he has the others’ attention, “but with the information being this lacking, rushing into action blindly would be a risk we should not take, especially with a brittle alliance on the line.”  
“Oh, backing out of your request to lead the mission already because your chances of success are slim?”, Inaho hears from the left, turning his head to fixate he man with his right eye.

“Not at all”, he explains calmly, “I don’t back out of operations once I ask for them. Only, I have a request first, one I will need approval from the Admiral for.”  
“And what would that be?”, Häkkinen asks slowly, and Inaho can already tell from his tone that the man is wary of whatever General Kaizuka could probably come up with, and he cannot help but smile a little at the curious mixture of acceptance and annoyance he has been treated with ever since he had been awarded this position.  
There is a chance presenting itself to him on a silver platter, and Inaho has never been someone to wait and second guess his opportunities.

“I request permission to add Slaine Troyard to the assigned task force.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> A quick word regarding the locations this fic takes place at: We can tell that the series’ epilogue is set in winter, most likely in Japan at the site of the Princess’ first murder. Given Slaine’s safe-house prison is in a summery environment, however, and has cars drive on the left side of the road, I decided to go with the south of Africa here, as the UFE quarters there definitely fell back into their hands since Count Zebrin died in battle.
> 
> As for the the renegade Knight, I basically randomly chose one of the Landing Castles we haven’t seen in the series for sure from the official map we got in the series.
> 
> First elaborate A/N [here](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/115720816668/redemptio-first-a-n-and-introductory-words).


	2. Vs/040: Response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m not hungry, you can take the tray back with you, thank you.”_   
>  _Slaine hears his words are muffled by the arm he has thrown over his face, but he makes no attempt to turn his head or open his eyes. It does not matter either way, the guards have long since given up trying to stare at him reproachfully every time. It is a silent agreement they have now, no more words than necessary on either side._   
>  _“It’s me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which terms are discussed._

“I’m not hungry, you can take the tray back with you, thank you.”  
Slaine hears his words are muffled by the arm he has thrown over his face, but he makes no attempt to turn his head or open his eyes. It does not matter either way, the guards have long since given up trying to stare at him reproachfully every time. It is a silent agreement they have now, no more words than necessary on either side.  
“It’s me.”  
He rises up with a start at the unexpected voice into a half sitting position, braced with his arms behind him on the bed.  
“Now, this is a first”, Slaine says slowly, staring at Inaho who calmly steps into his cell as the door is closed behind him with the echoing sound of the metal locks snapping into place. He looks around, taking in the view that is quite different from the glass walled visitor box they normally meet in. If one squinted at a few of the details, it looked hardly any different from a normal apartment room, but Inaho is not one who misses out on these things. 

“Why are you here, it’s not even Saturday yet”, Slaine jeers as Inaho stops at the table bolted to the floor in the middle of the room and eyes the barely touched on tray of food with furrowed brows.  
“I’m here on official business”, Inaho finally elaborates, and Slaine straightens up immediately.  
“Is Her Highness alright?” 

“Don’t worry, she’s perfectly fine.”  
Inaho’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle when he says that, and Slaine wonders if that change of tone is out of pity for him or due to the other’s own infatuation with the Princess. Either way, it irks him, and he lets out a long shaky breath to rid himself of the sudden flare of worry and anger.  
“Her negotiations about the surrendering of territory to the UFE with a certain Count Geine fell through, however, so there’s some worry that unrest might be about to start once more.” 

Slaine smiles coolly.  
“The Counts are fickle and greedy, I’m surprised you haven’t run into more resistance, actually.”  
“If we run into resistance, we use forceful persuasion”, Inaho retaliates in kind, and Slaine huffs.  
“Nothing much has changed, then. Why are you dropping by to tell me about this, though?”  
“Despite all the information we have on the Counts and their Kataphraktoi from those who joined us and the archives, we have virtually no information on this one.”

“So that’s why they sent you here? To ask me about that Count’s Kataphrakt?” Slaine laughs, and it sounds breathless and bitter. “Sorry to disappoint you, but in those few weeks of leading the Orbital Knights, I didn’t get to know everyone personally. I can't tell you anything about this one.”  
“I wasn’t _sent_ here”, Inaho disagrees, and Slaine stops with his sarcastic act instantly, his expression becoming guarded and focussed.

“Meaning?”  
“I’m here because I was the one who suggested asking you for help.”  
A stretch of silence follows in which they both just stare at each other, a wordless duel that Slaine is determined not to lose. In the end it is Inaho who leans against the table with his arms crossed and continues explaining.  
“Count Geine’s military advances came to almost a standstill after his initial conquest, but spiked again during your time as leader of the Orbital Knights. He must have been one of those answering to your call for defeating the UFE at all costs.”

Even though all of these events are only months in the past, to him it feels as if Inaho is talking about a totally different person, Slaine thinks, as if the version of him that had held speeches calling for the annihilation of an entire society is strangely disconnected from the version of him that is nothing but a living shadow only held alive by the charity of his captors.  
“Maybe”, he forces himself to speak, feeling Inaho’s one remaining eye fixed on him, yet unable to meet the other’s gaze directly. “But I've never had any contact with him, nor do I have specific information. If my predecessor had anything on him, it got destroyed along with the Moon Base. I’m not lying.”

“I never thought you were”, Inaho says with a sigh. “Too bad, but I suppose it would have been almost too good to be true if you had been able to tell me all about him.”  
“If that’s all you came for, then I guess you can leave now.”  
Slaine rubs over his eyes tiredly. Conversations with Inaho exhaust him beyond measure, no matter how short they are, and little else does with him being locked up constantly and physical exertion lacking entirely. The mere sight of the other and the scars Slaine is responsible for distress him more than he wishes to show, and even after what have now been months of regular visits, he still cannot even begin to guess at Inaho’s motivations for seemingly wanting to keep him company.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t know about him”, he hears Inaho’s voice, and he lifts his head sceptically. “I took great trouble to get the Admiral’s permission to have you join the team under my command, so I'm fully intent to make use of it.”  
“Join the team under your command?” Slaine echoes, not quite believing what he has just heard.  
“The Deucalion will be dispatched to forcefully take back the territory, and I want you to join”, Inaho explains simply, as if it was only a matter of personal decision and not a request for the impossible. 

“I think you have forgotten something, Kaizuka Inaho: I’m dead”, Slaine says softly, smiling to himself as if the thought amused him. “I don't exist, I have no title and no rank, no Kataphrakt and no power. What could you possibly want with me?”  
“Even if not about this Count in particular, you have intimate knowledge of Versian fighting techniques, technology and Landing Castles.”  
“So do all the Counts that have already joined your cause, why don’t you ask them?”

There is a short pause, then Inaho speaks up, avoiding Slaine’s eyes ever so slightly.  
“I need someone who can sync up with my combat strategies as perfectly as possible. And there is no-one who knows my fighting style better than you.”  
Slaine thinks to himself that if it had been anyone else but Inaho, he would certainly have believed he was being pranked by the person he had a history of mutual murder attempts with, but it is Inaho, and he knows better. Still, there is something about Inaho’s facial expression that has him believe that the other has not told him everything there is to his motivations, and does not intend to.

“What about your comrades from before?” he asks instead.   
“With the war officially over, most of the drafted civilians have retired from military service.”  
“You didn’t”, Slaine notes, eyes flickering down to the golden insignia telling of Inaho’s new rank, “why not?”  
“I still have responsibilities I want to see through until the end”, Inaho simply states, pushing himself off the table and walking towards where Slaine is sitting.

“I’m only going to make this offer once, take it or leave it.”  
Inaho steps closer to the point that the points of his polished shoes almost touch the bed post. Slaine inhales deeply, closing his eyes to avoid having to look at the person standing next to him and staring down at him in a way that he can actually feel on his skin.

“How are the chances of me dying on this mission?”, he asks, and he does not need to see Inaho’s face to know that there is that minimal displeased frown on it, now.  
“I won’t let you die unnecessarily”, Inaho replies, and the way he says it, it is a matter-of-fact announcement more than a promise.  
“Comforting to know”, Slaine drawls, opening his eyes again and slowly rising to his feet. He notes with gratification that Inaho has to take a step back and lift his head slightly, yet he still manages to remain high and mighty even now.

“What is your answer, Slaine Troyard?”  
Slaine quietly looks at the other for a few heartbeats more, that small boy who is even younger than him, yet dresses like a highly decorated general and orders the soldiers around the safe-house with an air of absolute authority, the boy who he knows to be tougher than steel and as merciless as he is loyal.  
Kaizuka Inaho does not _ask,_ he _commands._

“This Count is an enemy of Her Highness and puts her and her wish for peace at risk. Therefore, and only until his elimination, I am willing to cooperate with you under your terms and your command, Kaizuka Inaho.”


	3. Vs/041: Roadside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Slaine carefully removes the handcuffs, rubbing his wrists for a few seconds before complying with the order while Inaho starts the engine and turns the car around with practiced ease._   
>  _“Aren’t you at all concerned that you’re transporting a prisoner with no back-up and without any restraints?”, Slaine asks, observing his driver carefully, but Inaho stares straight ahead onto the road._   
>  _“No”, he replies, shifting gears and accelerating._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a journey beings._

“I can take it from here.”  
“General, Sir, I don’t think you should be-”  
“I _said_ I can take it from here, Officer, you can leave.”

Slaine watches with a mixture of amusement and incredulity as the armed middle-aged soldier who is about two heads taller than Inaho and at least twice as broad in frame flinches at the order and retreats back into the house with a final salute, shutting the door behind him.

For a second, they are simply standing there as Inaho digs in the pockets of his jacket for the car keys, and Slaine takes a look around. It is the first time he has been outside of the house and the garden surrounded by a three metre high wall, and even though he is familiar with the view, the lack of the reinforced iron bars change the impression a lot. A fresh breeze blowing in from the sea carries the smell of salt and algae, and for a brief moment, Slaine closes his eyes, taking in the wind pulling at his hair and the sunlight on his face, every ray a drop of warmth. He had almost forgotten the feeling, living on Vers and in the Satellite Belt.

“Alright then, please get inside”, Inaho disrupts his moment of tranquility, and Slaine opens his eyes again to see that Inaho has opened the passenger side door of the giant black SUV that makes him look even tinier in comparison.  
“You have no driver?”, he asks in a mocking tone as he climbs up the metal steps and drops into the seat.  
“The fewer people know about this facility, the better”, Inaho explains, suddenly frowning. “Ah, this won’t work, I forgot.”

“What won’t?”  
“You can’t put on a seatbelt with these still in place. Wait a second.”  
Slaine watches with complete bewilderment as Inaho fishes a small set of keys from the breast pocket of his uniform and looks at Slaine expectantly.  
“Your hands”, he prompts, and Slaine complies automatically, hearing the comforting clicking of the handcuff locks becoming undone.  
“Please strap in”, Inaho says without even so much as a second look at him, slamming the door shut and walking around the car to climb into the driver’s seat.

Slaine carefully removes the handcuffs, rubbing his wrists for a few seconds before complying with the order while Inaho starts the engine and turns the car around with practiced ease.  
“Aren’t you at all concerned that you’re transporting a prisoner with no back-up and without any restraints?”, Slaine asks, observing his driver carefully, but Inaho stares straight ahead onto the road.  
“No”, he replies, shifting gears and accelerating. “You promised to cooperate, and even if you attempted to flee and I for some reason should be unable to stop you, there’s no-one you could turn to.”

There is nothing to hold against this bitter truth, and Slaine turns towards his window instead, looking at the coastal line flying by, only occasionally disrupted by accumulations of houses or trees.  
He asks before he has even really thought about it.  
“Do you mind if I open the window?”  
“The window?”  
This time, Inaho turns towards him, and Slaine notes that it really is the little things that manage to bring out the look of complete surprise on Inaho’s face where the bigger incidents do not manage to phase him at all.

“I miss the feeling of head wind.”  
If Inaho has any verdict on this unexpected request, he does not show it as he turns his attention back on the winding road.  
“I don’t mind”, he says, and presses the button to roll down the window on Slaine’s side.

 

For almost an hour, they continue in silence, away from the sea and deeper into the countryside, the palm trees and the sandy dunes giving way to hills overgrown with bushes, and Slaine half dozes off to the constant noise of the engine and Inaho’s even driving style, face turned towards the sun and the howling of the airstream in his ears.  
Villages pass by, herds of animals looking like miniatures in the distance, and road signs with names on them that mean nothing to Slaine.

“Where are you taking me?”, he finally inquires a bit hoarsely when Inaho slows down at an intersection, only to turn right.  
“A small abandoned military base of the United Forces”, Inaho readily answers, and without taking his eye of the road he opens a compartment in the centre console to retrieve two bottles of water and holding them out for Slaine to take, who accepts them with a mumbled word of thanks. “We need to take care of some things in peace and quiet away from the eyes of the officials before meeting up with the Deucalion.”

“Some things?”, Slaine echoes suspiciously, unscrewing one bottle and handing it back to Inaho before opening his own.  
“Only the absolute top brass knows about your existence and your involvement in this mission, so I can hardly bring you along on a battleship manned by average soldiers without causing a massive commotion.”  
“So what’s the plan then?”, Slaine asks, genuinely curious, but Inaho just empties half of the bottle before handing it back to Slaine with a nod.  
“You’ll see”, he simply states, and that ends their conversation.

 

When Inaho pulls into driveway leading up to the base half an hour later, Slaine is still half surprised that it really is an abandoned area. Apart from them, there is no other person visible, only old vehicles and left-behind equipment slowly rusting beneath the scorching midday sun. Inaho wordlessly exits the car, and Slaine follows suit, enjoying the strange feeling of walking without his hands tied and being flanked by soldiers with guns at the ready.

“You know, this is the kind of environment you bring people to before executing them in secret”, he jokes, sidestepping a tangled mess of barbed wire on the cracked concrete, but Inaho does not even bother to look back.  
“If we wanted you killed, you would already be dead. The UFE abolished death penalty in 1987, so no, that’s not why we are here.”

Inaho walks up to the main hangar, punching in a code into the lock, and to Slaine’s surprise, the roller shutter actually opens with the roaring sound of a well-maintained engine. Stepping into the twilight of the hall, Slaine can instantly guess why Inaho brought him here.  
On a truck trailer in the centre, not unlike a sleeping giant at first glance, lies a Terran Kataphrakt.

“Tharsis was destroyed beyond repair during our fall”, he can hear Inaho explain as they stand side by side looking at the metal monstrosity. It occurs to Slaine that he had never been so close to one when entirely unarmed, and even if this one is shut down and poses no danger whatsoever, it is a strange feeling. “And with Skycarriers being so poorly equipped for actual prolonged combat, I thought this would be the best option. Do you think you can pilot it?”  
Slaine gives a noncommittal shrug.  
“Versian and Terran Kataphraktoi were initially based off the same rough design. I can try.”

Inaho nods in contentment, before stepping closer to the trailer to pick up a bundle wrapped in plastic that had been lying on top.  
“Change into this first, then”, he orders, tossing it to Slaine, who catches it out of reflex. Inaho then turns and walks back towards the car without looking back. “I’ll set up the communication link, you have five minutes.”

 

Slaine is just zipping up the airbag collar when he hears Inaho approach again.  
“How are you feeling?” Inaho asks once he appears in his field of vision, giving him a once-over before stepping closer to re-adjust some of the thigh belts without so much as even asking for permission, to Slaine’s vague sense of discomfort.  
“The Vers pilot gear was certainly roomier”, Slaine asserts, resigned, dropping his hands to his sides as Inaho tightens the shoulder straps with probably more force than strictly speaking necessary.

“It’s not supposed to be comfortable, it’s supposed to keep you safe”, Inaho explains patiently as if talking to a child, taking a step back to re-evaluate his work. “Mazuurek-san mentioned that there have actually been Versian pilots who died due to whiplash or got destroyed alongside their Kataphrakt because there was no ejection seat function, I don’t understand how you can be that careless and narrow-minded.”

“Tharsis had no ejection seat, either”, Slaine counters with a smile, and is rewarded by Inaho staring at him in obvious alarm. “Orbital Knights would rather die than shamefully escape and leave their clan’s biggest treasure behind.”  
Inaho shakes his head disapprovingly and clicks his tongue.  
“What use is getting sentimental about machines? Kataphraktoi can be rebuild, human life cannot. Lift your head a little.”

Slaine complies without arguing and feels Inaho fasten the communicator gear around his neck carefully, somehow managing not to get the cords hopelessly tangled between the airbag collar, Slaine’s amulett, and his hair.  
“There you go”, he then announces, clasping the transmitter to the harness and finally putting some distance between them again. “Ready for a test run on the ground?“  
“Ready if you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A deer friend of mine keeps on poking for fun at the chapters for being _almost_ shippy, but not quite, and as a result keeps on gifting me with equally _almost_ Orangebat vignettes in return. From this chapter on, these wonderful pieces will occasionally make guest appearances in the End Notes, think of it as 4-koma-style-omake, if you wish.  
>  ED: [Now illustrated](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/116391299748/vs041-roadside) \- thank you so much!
> 
> _i. once-over_
> 
> _Inaho gives him a slow once-over that manages to convey appreciation without deviating from his usual pokerface._
> 
> _Slaine tilts his head and leans against the Kataphrakt._
> 
> _“Like what you see?”_
> 
> _“Yup, nice Kat. I like the colour.”_


	4. Vs/042: Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re a strange one, Kaizuka Inaho.”_   
>  _“Maybe.”_   
>  _For some time, they rest in silence, watching the sun slowly approach the horizon, the shadows of the abandoned buildings around them growing longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which preparations continue._

“Aldnoah Drive acti- aah, no, force of habit. Master Switch: On. Main Engine: Start. Asimov OS booting up, logged in under... Wait, is your name actually ‘ _Kaiduka_ ’?”  
“It’s pronounced ‘ _Kaizuka_ ’, don’t get distracted”, Inaho instructs, adjusting the volume of the transmission slightly. He can almost hear Slaine shrug in response.  
“Whatever, then. Uhm, monitors are functional, indicating Fuel Cell Batteries are heating up. Voltage: Check. Accumulator Pressure: Check. Next is--”

“Start the Force Feedback Checking Programme, it’s the panel to the left.”  
“Right”, Slaine replies, and Inaho does not need an Analytical Engine to notice the annoyed quality to his voice. Inaho remembers the first time Mazuurek had invited him to try his hand at piloting an Aldnoah Drive powered machine and how he had struggled with the complete change of procedure, and decides to go for a bit of constructive commentary.  
“Don’t worry, you’re doing good so far.”

Slaine promptly ignores him.  
“Force Feedback Checking Programme: Start. What next?”  
“Check if both Ejection Seat and IFF are functional.”  
Slaine gives a short laugh, and for a brief moment, all Inaho hears is the static of the transmission and sounds of the operating system.  
“Both are running. I didn’t get registered as a foe, though.”  
“Of course not.” 

Inaho frowns at the transmitter as if Slaine could see it. It is annoyingly hard to tell just where the other’s twisted sense of humour and willingness to surrender to fate end and cynicism and a death wish begin.  
“Tactical Datalink, activated. All Systems: Green. Opening trailer hold.”  
Taking a step back just in case, Inaho watches as the Areion unit comes to life, slowly rising from the trailer and standing up, the head almost touching the hangar’s ceiling. 

“Try walking outside“, he orders. “I’ve tampered with this one a little, so-”  
“What, is it rigged with explosives in case I don’t do what you say?”  
Again, Slaine’s voice sounds almost delighted at that possibility, and Inaho suddenly wishes he had a Sleipnir unit at hand to be able to punch the other on eye-level, once more.  
“No. What I was about to say is that it automatically converts everything to Vers standard, in case you haven’t noticed. I thought it might make transition easier for you.”  
There is a few seconds of radio silence before can hear Slaine again, soft and almost inaudible.  
“Thanks.” 

 

The hours pass quickly, and Inaho realises again what a joy it is to work with Slaine Troyard. The man is quick on the uptake and obviously talented at what he does, and it takes him little more than a bit of adjustment time to move the KG-7 Areion along even in more complex manoeuvres as if he had never piloted anything else, needing nothing but occasional corrections by Inaho on minor technicalities.

 

“You certainly are very sure of yourself”, Slaine comments when they are both sitting on the floor in the shade later, eating the sandwiches Inaho had brought along, once the Kataphrakt has been stored back on the trailer and the trailer hooked up to the SUV. It is the first time Inaho observes the other eat properly and without complaints. It is a bit strange, still, to see the so familiar Kat suit on the person he had first known from the broadcasts as constantly clad in the Orbital Knight’s full dress and then in plain blue prison clothes, but in any case Slaine carries himself like a soldier, balancing out the differences.  
“What do you mean?”  
Slaine puts down his water bottle and smiles.

“I mean you letting me practice with live rounds and everything. Or I could just have stepped on you. Why do you trust me so much in that I won’t try to kill you? Shouldn’t that be your first and foremost concern?”  
“You disconnected”, Inaho replies flatly, brushing a few bread crumbs from his legs.  
“What?”  
Slaine regards him with obvious incomprehension. 

“Back during our final fight, it was you who disconnected the cable as you began to fall. You could have tried to drag me with you, but you didn’t.”  
"I tried to kill you before, trust me.”  
Inaho feels his fist clench and takes a deep breath to keep himself from violently shaking the other person. Slaine keeps going back and forth between pointing out how he should never be forgiven and proving that he is not half as ruthless as he tries making one believe, and his habit of punishing himself is aggravating Inaho more than he can express.

“It doesn’t matter”, he says instead with emphasis. “We both made mistakes before, but in the end, your final decision is what brought us to where we are now. You’re too good an asset to disregard because of things that happened in the past.”  
Slaine shakes his head, but Inaho thinks that slowly, the resignation is fading from his features. He has seen photos of how radiant Slaine had looked in younger years, and he remembers the imposing stern persona he had displayed as a leader of war, and Inaho wonders just what middle ground he could hope the other to recover. 

“You’re a strange one, Kaizuka Inaho.”  
“Maybe.”  
For some time, they rest in silence, watching the sun slowly approach the horizon, the shadows of the abandoned buildings around them growing longer.  
“There’s one more problem we need to solve before we can head for our rendez-vous point with the Deucalion”, Inaho then starts, “regarding your identity.”  
“I suppose with all the video broadcasts of me around, it wouldn’t do to just show up under a fake name, would it?” 

“No”, Inaho agrees, and reaches for the inner pocket of his jacket to retrieve a small bag he hands to Slaine. “That’s why I brought this.”  
Slaine takes it and opens it carefully, stilling almost unnaturally once he recognises the content.  
“That’s the Princess’”, he says, and the way his voice breaks just a little tells more about him than all the psychological evaluations on him Inaho had had the displeasure of having to grade so far as the officer entrusted with this special prisoner.  
“Yes. I assume you know of its abilities?”   
  
Slaine nods, half in trance, still, and Inaho continues.  
“Since you still possess the Aldnoah activation factor, you should be able to use it, it’s not limited to Vers royalty. I asked Emperor Cruhteo to have it reprogrammed to provide a disguise tailored to your needs, of course.”  
“Cruhteo“, Slaine echoes hollowly, the necklace now in his hands, his fingers gently brushing across the jewels in the centre. “If you asked him, that means-”  
“The Empress doesn’t know about this“, Inaho finishes his line, avoiding Slaine’s questioning gaze. “I don’t think she would approve of me asking you to return to the battlefield.”

Something obviously is on the tip of Slaine’s tongue in reply, but he does not voice it, and Inaho is grateful for that.  
“I see”, he mutters instead, wrapping the necklace loosely around his wrist.  
“As for your identification, that of course was easier”, Inaho changes the topic slightly, and hands Slaine the faked military ID he had organised, and waits.  
Slaine skims over it, eyes catching, and re-reads it properly.

“You _have_ to be joking”, he then manages, and when he lifts his head to stare at Inaho, it is with a mixture of utter annoyance, flat disbelief, and just a dash of amusement. At least, that is what Inaho thinks.  
“I took the liberty of looking into your father’s ancestry”, he casually announces with a shrug, trying to keep his face even as Slaine groans and stands up.  
“You’re horrible”, he says, looking down at Inaho, but this time, there is no anger in his voice and no gun in his hand. “Let’s just get moving, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I’ll be rid off this joke, hopefully forever.”

Inaho smiles as he gets to his feet.  
“Whatever you want, Bat.”


	5. Vs/043: Radiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Someone is touching his shoulder slightly, and Slaine rises with a jolt._   
>  _“Wake up, we’re almost there.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a bargain is struck._

Someone is touching his shoulder slightly, and Slaine rises with a jolt.  
“Wake up, we’re almost there.”  
Inaho is leaning back again, focus on the road, and Slaine shakes his head to get rid off the feeling of sleepiness still lingering. Being woken up abruptly had been nothing unusual during his days as a low-ranking soldier, but the past few months, his life had been mostly sleeping and dozing to pass the time. In between talking more than he had the past weeks in total and physically exerting himself during the training session, Inaho’s general presence had worn him out enough to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep almost immediately that they had set out again.

The sky is pitch black now, and Slaine does not know how much time has passed, but in the near distance he can see the bright gleam of halogen floodlights indicating the main UFE base ahead.  
“I should have offered to switch with you“, he begins, voice half cut off by a yawn.  
“I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s a good thing you’ve slept now, things might get hectic soon after all.”  
“And what about you?”

Inaho makes an indifferent sound.  
“I’m used to it. More importantly, you should change now before we come into line of sight of the guards.”  
“Right”, Slaine says slowly, staring at the necklace that is still around his wrist. “Actually, why did you have it, Kaizuka?”  
Inaho’s grip tightens around the steering wheel, but his voice is calm as always when he replies.  
“She left it to me as a token of gratitude back during the fight for the Moon Base. I only lend it to you, Slaine Troyard, so take good care of it.” 

“You rescued her from your own comrades up there, didn’t you”, Slaine thinks out loud, but Inaho does not reply.  
Slaine reaches up to fasten the necklace, and his fingers brush against the clasp of his amulet in the process. He hesitates only for a second before removing it, regarding it in his hand one last time before holding it out to his driver.  
“Wearing two necklaces would be a hassle, you can keep this one as collateral until this mission is over.”

Inaho stares at him for a moment, then takes it carefully and with a weird expression that is somewhere between nostalgia and pain.  
“I would never have thought I’d see it again”, he says softly, his thumb brushing over the cross shape in the centre, and then he stashes it in the breast pocket of his uniform jacket. “I’ll take care not to lose it, don’t worry.”  
Slaine simply nods, now concentrating on the new weight around his neck. He can feel the warm pulse of Aldnoah even before he focuses his own energy on the centre of the engine, activating it with a mere thought. 

The following play of light is so dazzling and bright that he can even tell from behind closed eyelids, but thankfully Inaho had obviously been prepared enough to not crash them into one of the rocks on the roadside.  
“How do you feel?”, Slaine hears him ask, and opening his eyes, he can see Inaho is unabashedly staring at him, obviously taking in the difference.  
“Pay attention to the road”, he snaps, because somehow it bothers him that he is not even granted seeing this new version of himself first.  
Inaho huffs and wordlessly turns the rearview mirror in Slaine’s direction, but there is the faintest trace of a smile on his face. 

Slaine remembers the way the holographic engine had changed the Princess from the regal beauty into a pretty girl that looked harmless and casual down to even the clothes, and how it had transformed Lemrina from herself into a perfect copy of her sister, indiscernible to even his eyes. But when he adjusts the mirror, he catches himself frown slightly. Hardly anything is really different, not the uniform of course, and not the shape and colour of his eyes. Only his hair is now the opposite side of the spectrum, almost black, shorter and a lot less unruly. 

“It doesn’t seem all that different”, he slowly asserts, turning his head slightly to confirm that the illusion really covers every angle, and notes that the necklace itself also had disappeared without a trace, “do you really think that this is enough to fool people?”  
For a brief moment, the thought occurs to him that Klancain might have made it insufficient on purpose, hoping for the mission to fail and for him to die, but he hates himself for even jumping to such conclusions the next second. Envy and false accusations are crossing a thin line, and for all he knows, the other man had done nothing but assist Inaho in an undertaking that “risky” does not even begin to cut. 

“It doesn’t have to be elaborate”, Inaho disagrees, thankfully stopping Slaine’s destructive train of thought. “To people’s best knowledge, you’re dead, so they simply don’t expect you to show up again in the open like this. Changing some of the main characteristics is enough, and better than altering your appearance to a degree that you will have trouble working with it. Just make sure you don’t deactivate it by accident.”

“I’m not stupid”, Slaine quips, turning the mirror back towards the driver’s seat.  
“Certainly”, Inaho deadpans, “But let me just stress one last time before we arrive: Don’t drop your disguise, don’t mention your true identity to anyone, don’t leave my side unless I give you permission to, and most importantly, don’t do anything that might put anyone aboard the ship at risk. Just act normal. Are we clear, Lieutenant?”  
“Crystal clear, General.”  
Slaine thinks he manages to swallow his sarcasm quite commendably, really.

 

No matter how many different Kataphraktoi Slaine has seen so far, everything pales in comparison to just what a beast the Deucalion is, he thinks as he follows Inaho across the brightly lit runway towards the staging, hardly noticing how the soldiers around them salute and clear the path. The battleship truly is proof of what horrible and beautiful potential the perfect combination of Earth’s and Vers’ technology carries, and he can see clearly she had emerged out of the war with not even so much as a scratch visible on the dark hull.

Inaho does not even seem to notice his amazement, and in turn walks around the place as if he owns it, as if he had returned home rather than signed up for a life-or-death mission on an alien battleship. Slaine follows Inaho silently on his heels, only half listening to the instructions and greetings the other gives left and right as they make their way towards the stern top deck. It feels odd and yet so very familiar to be in this position once more, servant to a commanding leader of war, only this time, the back he is looking at is so much smaller and deceptively weak.

“General on the bridge”, Slaine hears a woman’s voice call out the moment they cross the threshold, and immediately, everyone salutes.  
“That really isn’t necessary, Captain Magbaredge”, Inaho complains, and Slaine notes he looks almost uncomfortable in his own skin.  
“Military courtesy is military courtesy”, the woman disagrees with a smile, stepping down from her commanding seat and shaking Inaho’s hand. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Kaizuka Junior.”  
“Likewise, I’m glad you answered my request.” 

Slaine thinks to himself that if he had ever doubted whether any of the smiles he had seen on Inaho might have been fake, this one had to be genuine. So he truly is capable of affection, then.  
“Of course, the treatment of this ship has improved considerably ever since you are amongst those assigning the tasks”, the Captain replies with obvious disdain in her voice for whoever had done so before. Then, suddenly, her sharp eyes turn directly towards Slaine, and he feels himself instinctively straighten his back. There is something about her aura that demands instant respect.  
“Did you bring your own squad?”  
“Only my Lieutenant, Flygehunder”, Inaho replies, shooting Slaine a last half warning, half encouraging look over his shoulder, only managing to make Slaine want to punch him once more for that name, “apart from that, I would ask for cooperation from the ship’s platoons.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll approve of the soldiers I’ve assigned to this mission.”  
There is a smile pulling at her lips when she says that, and she nods at Slaine in greeting. “I’ll see to your Lieutenant’s Kataphrakt being boarded, your unit is already down in the docks. We plan to depart today at 1400 hours, if we’re finished restocking by then.”  
“Excellent, thank you very much, Captain.”  
Inaho gives a last smile to the staff on the bridge, before abruptly turning around and almost bumping into Slaine, obviously still not quite used to his new shadow. 

“Let’s go, Lieutenant.”  
Slaine follows him after a quick salute to the Captain.  
“Where to?”  
Inaho turns to look at him with raised brows.  
“It’s a little past one in the morning, I would suggest to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> _Flygehunder_ is the Norwegian word for _fruit bat_ , literally meaning _'flying dog'_.
> 
>  
> 
> _ii. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_
> 
> _Inaho watches him in silence, and the attention makes Slaine self-conscious. Which is why he feels compelled to act on it._
> 
> _“Well, good thing suicidal rescue mission packages include a makeover now,” he says, touching the short hairs at his nape. “Brunette, huh.”_
> 
> _“Any objections?” Inaho asks, his eyes back on the road._
> 
> _“I’m not in the position to object to your_ preferences _,” Slaine can’t help stressing the last word or dragging the pause before he adds, “General.”_
> 
> _“Klancain’s, actually,” Inaho answers in the same even tone. “Feel free to bring it up to him the next time you meet.”_


	6. Vs/044: Retrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them before on photos in my file.”_   
>  _Slaine does not turn around, but obviously still caught him staring, and his voice is dry mockery and nothing else._   
>  _“I have”, Inaho admits quietly, tearing his gaze from the white criss-crossing lines and beginning to take off the layers of his own uniform._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which nighttime brings out honesty._

“Top or bottom?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“The beds.”  
“We’re sharing a room?” Slaine asks sceptically, catching up with Inaho to walk at his side now that they are alone.  
“Of course“, Inaho replies, turning to one of the massive doors along the corridor and opening it, “I can keep an eye on you that way. It would look weird if I locked up my own Lieutenant in the holding cells every night, after all.” 

“So what, you’ll shackle me to the bed frame instead?”, Slaine continues, shutting the door behind him and glancing around the small, spartan room with vague interest.  
“I was thinking you’d just go to sleep without irritating me for once”, Inaho almost snaps, feeling his patience running thin after hours of driving and arguing, “but if you insist, we can do that, also.”  
Slaine looks surprised for a split second at Inaho’s slip of tone, and then his expression changes to one of what Inaho thinks might be respect and approval, almost. 

“That won’t be necessary.”  
“Great. So if you have no preference, I’d say you take the top bunk, since you’re taller. Plus”, he adds, with a sense of smug gratification, “bats prefer to sleep in higher places from what I recall.”  
“You’re never going to stop with this, are you”, Slaine mutters, already in the process of taking off the Kat suit and gear. Inaho considers his reply for just a few seconds of show.  
“No”, he then declares, shrugging off his uniform jacket and hanging it by the door, “consider it the price you pay for your temporary freedom.”  
“Fantastic.” 

When Inaho turns again, he sees that Slaine has pulled the overall already down to his waist, and is currently unpacking the simple shirt and pair of pants that had been laid out on each bed as nightwear, and his eyes instantly fall on what the necklace fails to hide.  
  
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen them before on photos in my file.”  
Slaine does not turn around, but obviously still caught him staring, and his voice is dry mockery and nothing else.  
“I have”, Inaho admits quietly, tearing his gaze from the white criss-crossing lines and beginning to take off the layers of his own uniform. 

“I see the necklace doesn’t hide them, then. That means Klancain doesn’t know, right?”  
“He knows you’re alive, but no-one has access to your full file except for me so far. All of the staff had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, of course.”  
“That’s good”, Slaine says casually, voice muffled by the shirt he is pulling over his head, and just like that, the visual reminder that he is not just any normal person disappears from view.

“These scars”, Inaho begins slowly, not quite sure how to tackle the topic given how often people remind him of his lack of tact, especially in sensitive matters. Slaine does not strike him as frail or easily offended, yet the existence of the scars already tells a story of deliberate torture that most people would probably not want to share.  
“You got them from his father, didn’t you?”  
“You’re as astute and blunt as always”, Slaine replies and turns to look at Inaho with that weird small smile that Inaho still cannot quite place. “You’ve done your research on me, I see.”

“Asseylum told me you were a member of the previous Count Cruhteo’s household up until his death and being adopted by Count Saazbaum and employed in his schemes, so it was the most logical conclusion.”  
Slaine gives a hum that is vaguely appreciative of Inaho’s reasoning, but his smile still irks him. It is smooth and without true emotion, and Inaho recalls it from so many instances where he has seen it on politicians’ faces.  
“It’s not Klancain’s fault what his father did, and he doesn’t need to know. It’s best if the new emperor just thinks of me as the mislead heir to the traitorous Saazbaum family that started the war, someone who continued their wretched legacy, and not as in any way related to and wronged by his own clan.” 

Inaho takes his time to think about how to reply best, and they silently change into their pyjamas. The way he had witnessed Slaine Troyard act right after the end of the war, desperate for a quick death and so bitter about the pity he thought Inaho had taken on him, nothing of that seems to be left in the other’s words now. He is all diplomacy and willingness to become the scapegoat if it is in the interest of Her Highness and the general public, and while Inaho cannot help but admire that magnanimity, he knows that to most people, it would be disturbing.

“You’ve turned down all visitor requests categorically, including his, and even hers”, Inaho finally says towards the metal slatted frame above his head when they have already climbed into their respective bunks, and removes his eyepatch, the last thing he does at night as usual.  
“I would have turned down yours as well, but you never request meetings in the first place”, he can hear Slaine’s voice, somewhere between amused and exhausted.  
“I’m in charge of overseeing your sentence, so I don’t have to.”  
Again, a beat of silence follows, and then Inaho decides to ask what he has been wanting to ask Slaine ever since his third visit, preceded by Asseylum coming him with that sad, gentle smile of hers.  
_He won’t see me, Inaho-san. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me._

 “Why don’t you want to meet her?”  
“I can’t.”  
Slaine sounds composed, the way he had when they had burned up in the atmosphere, the same proud resignation that had only ever shattered once when he had learned the reason to his survival.  
“I don’t deserve her forgiveness, and I don’t deserve her asking you to save me. I betrayed her in the most despicable way possible, and no matter the reason I lost sight of the price I would have to pay for my goals, there is no denying that.” 

“She doesn’t hate you for what you’ve done, Slaine. She could never hate you.”  
Slaine does not reply.

 

The next morning, Slaine wakes up with little noise, as he seems to do most things in life.  
“Good morning”, Inaho greets without looking up from the laptop screen, and is surprised when mere seconds later, instead of taking the ladder, Slaine jumps from the top with a graceful half-somersault. Coined by a life in space, Inaho thinks to himself.  
“Morning”, he replies, casting a not at all surreptitious glance at the Kataphrakt specs Inaho is working on. “Don’t tell me you’re still using that atrocious trainer thing.”  
“I couldn’t care less if you don’t like the colour”, Inaho retaliates, before putting aside the laptop and picking up a stack of clothes and towels lying next to him on the bed and handing them to Slaine. 

“I organised you a normal uniform”, he explains as Slaine eyes the things suspiciously. “You can use the officer’s bathroom down the hall on the left, it’s the only one with separate showers and all.”  
“How long have you been up yet?”, Slaine questions, obviously slightly put off by Inaho already way into today’s work.  
“Since six”, Inaho replies, and anticipating the next question adds: “It’s half past nine.”  
“Why didn’t you wake me?”  
Slaine actually looks alarmed, and Inaho chuckles slightly.  
“As long as the mission hasn’t started yet, you’re less of a hassle when sleeping.”

 

He is just finishing up writing down the instructions for the mechanics when Slaine returns, now dressed in the standard UFE white shirt, black trousers and blue tie.  
“I just ran into some people in the hallway who asked for you”, he announces, obviously slightly uncomfortable, “they followed me, I just told them to wait outside..?”  
Inaho frowns and steps towards the door, but in that moment someone already tackles him with a hug, almost knocking him over. 

“Inaho, I missed you!”  
“Inko?”, Inaho manages, tentatively hugging back and noting from the corner of his eye that Slaine had fallen into something bordering on a defence stance, slightly shakes his head in his direction. “But why are you he-”  
“You don’t really think that we’d sit idly by while you charge back into battle”, Calm announces with a grin, stepping inside as well and patting Inaho on the shoulder that is not currently occupied by Inko still hugging him. 

“But you both quit military service, how-”  
“Mizusaki told us”, Inko explains, finally stepping back, and Inaho notes her voice is slightly bubbly with what seem to be tears of joy, “so we volunteered for this mission.”  
“But shouldn’t you both be in school right now?”, Inaho continues, still perplexed by the sudden assault.  
“Well, with you simply going ahead and making yourself general and never returning to school, I never got the chance to take back the spot as the best of the class from you, so I have to at least prove to you I’m an ace pilot”, Inko beams and playfully punches his ribs slightly.

“It’s a solid excuse to skip mid-terms, of course I’d take it. Also, in case you forgot, for Nina and me it’s also a matter of taking back our home country”, Calm supplies, and Inaho’s eye widens again.  
“She’s also here?”  
“Rayet, too, we got almost the entire team back together.”  
“I see”, Inaho manages weakly, and tries desperately to make sense of the tight feeling in his chest. Meeting his friends here so unexpectedly makes him happier than he would ever have expected, yet at the same time, he wonders just what had made them leave behind absolute safety and return to the frontline, such a dangerous one, too.

He turns his head slightly to check how Slaine had reacted to this sudden display of obvious weaknesses in Inaho’s life, but the other is simply standing parade now and watching him calmly, his face entirely unreadable.  
“So what do you say, the Mustang platoon back in action?”  
Inaho turns back towards his friends, and cannot stop himself from smiling.  
“That sounds great”, he agrees, “I was just about to head out to make some final preparations before we take off, what about you?”  
“Checking in with the bridge. Let’s meet up later with the others, right, Inko?”

As Inaho watches his friends head down the hallway in the opposite direction, Inko turning to wave at him one last time, he is almost painfully aware of Slaine standing behind him, observing.  
He wants to say something, anything, to feel both less vulnerable and guilty of taunting his prisoner with a display of his comrades still alive and well where Slaine’s are not, but in that moment, they are already approached again by an technical officer with questions about the ship’s armoury.

There is no way he can discuss anything with Slaine as long as they have company, so he puts up with the other wordlessly following every step, a shadow that he himself had chosen and now suddenly wonders if he can handle. No-one really takes note of Inaho’s entourage, and the tasks he has to deal with keep his mind busy from wondering whether or not the situation has changed now that he knows the people closest to him are involved as well.  
It is only later, at the stairwell leading down to the docks, that he stops and turns towards Slaine for the first time since morning.

“I need to discuss something with the engineers, you can already go to the canteen and have lunch, if you want, seeing how you kind of skipped breakfast. I give you permission to leave. Take care.”  
It is not at all a suggestion, but an order, and Slaine reacts in kind.  
“Yes, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _iii. bed and breakfast_
> 
> _"Slaine, I have a suggestion."_
> 
> _Slaine stops fumbling with his uniform straps and looks up at Inaho's face which radiates seriousness in what seem to be twice its usual amounts._
> 
> _"Okay, it must be something important if you're warning me about it beforehand."_
> 
> _Inaho nods solemnly._
> 
> _"You are free to do as you like, of course, but I recommend you wake up before seven a.m. to catch fresh omelette at the canteen."_
> 
> _Slaine hears the belts drop from his hands on the cabin floor with a tiny clang._
> 
> _"You have no qualms threatening to chain me to the bed but ask for my opinion in matters of breakfast? Are you serious?"_
> 
> _"I don't see what's so funny about eggs."_


	7. Vs/045: Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Yo, Lieutenant, do you mind if we sit here?”  
>  Slaine lifts his gaze from the mashed potatoes with a start only to see the two friends who had greeted Inaho so enthusiastically just hours earlier amongst some other people standing next to him, smiling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which former enemies make friends._

“Yo, Lieutenant, do you mind if we sit here?”  
Slaine lifts his gaze from the mashed potatoes with a start only to see the two friends who had greeted Inaho so enthusiastically just hours earlier amongst some other people standing next to him, smiling.  
A lot of other tables are still free, and he had picked the spot in a far off corner for a reason, yet still, they seem intent on staying with him. Noticing he takes too long, he quickly clears his throat.  
“No, please, sit.”

“So, what’s it like, working under our dear prodigy war-hero general? I bet he’s a pain in the ass as a boss”, the boy starts with a wide grin as he sits down on the opposite bench.  
“Calm!” the dark haired girl exclaims, shoving an elbow into his ribs, and Slaine’s head is reeling with the search for an answer.  
_Just act normal,_ Inaho had told him, but now that his role extends beyond silently standing parade behind his General, Slaine suddenly finds himself in completely unchartered territory. Merrily gossiping about his boss with fellow soldiers over food had never once in his life been normality, and he is not quite sure how to proceed, aware that the squabbling duo expects an answer.  
  
“I guess he can be..?”, he offers slowly and without conviction, and when the girl’s expression immediately turns slightly pouty and the boy gleefully turns to her with a I told you so, he adds more diplomatically: “Not anyhow worse than every other military supervising officer, though.”  
He is not even lying with that, given that of all the people he had worked under so far, Inaho treats him the most humane, which in and on itself is already absurd. But he can hardly go into detail on how much better off he is now without giving away he had spent the bigger part of his life a member of the Vers army.  
  
“A loyal one, aren’t you”, the boy sighs, before winking. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t tattle on you. Also, Inko, you were always the first to complain Inaho constantly used you as a decoy without telling you beforehand, so don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what I mean.”  
The girl’s cheeks colour slightly, but whatever she yells in response, Slaine misses out on it, caught in the sudden memory of a unit that had suspiciously often been around Inaho during their first clashes in the orbit. The realisation that it had probably been this vivid, friendly girl in front of him that he had almost killed in order to get to Inaho somehow feels a lot stranger and more uncomfortable than being around the person who had almost died at his hands twice. Probably because different from Inaho, she looks hardly the part of someone absolutely at ease with murder.  
  
“Have you worked under his command for long?”, the girl with blond pigtails sitting next to her inquires with a broad smile that somehow unsettles Slaine slightly, nevermind the fact that he is fairly sure that even if Earth’s military uniforms for women apparently still included skirts, whatever she and her friend are wearing are anything but standardised military clothes. Nevertheless, he is grateful for the distraction.  
“Uhm, I’ve fought with him before, but was only put under his direct command recently.”  
Sticking as close to the truth as possible makes the most believable lies, Slaine thinks to himself, but has barely finished his sentence when the girl continues.  
  
“How old are you?”  
“Nineteen-”  
“Where did you grow up?”  
“My family moved around a lot, so-”  
“Where were you stationed during the war?”  
“The orbit, mostly-”  
“Seriously?! You must have survived the Trident Base Massacre then! Tell me-”  
“Stop making the Lieutenant uncomfortable, Nina”, the girl sitting next to Slaine interrupts the stream of questions in a dispassionate voice, “this isn’t an interrogation, you know?”

Slaine wants to thank her from the bottom of his heart. Just the mention of the name brings back memories he does not dare to touch as long as he is here with the people to whom it is not proof of his skill as a strategist and soldier but instead nothing but slaughter of their comrades in cold blood.  
“It’s alright, I don’t mind”, he hears himself say instead.  
  
“Ah, sorry! We haven’t even properly introduced us yet!”  
The dark haired girl tries to smooth over the awkwardness, pointing at the people sitting around Slaine now.  
“That’s Calm, he’s one of the engineers responsible for patching up the Kataphraktoi, this is Nina, she’s on the bridge, and that over there is Rayet, who along with me will be on your team. I’m Inko, nice to meet you!”  
“Likewise”, Slaine says with a slightly forced smile, leaning over to shake Inko’s hand.

“I’m Tyr Flygehunder”, he adds, trying to ignore the flare of annoyance that comes as soon as he only thinks of the name Inaho put on him.  
“Oh, like the god of victory, then? That’s pretty cool”, Calm grins while snatching a croquette from Nina’s tray, before explaining in consideration of Slaine’s obvious confusion in  
between chewing: “When I was younger, I was really into Norse mythology, you see.”  
“No-one cares”, Rayet declares, wordlessly adding one of her croquettes to the other girl’s tray again, even though she apparently had not even noticed, still busy staring at Slaine, “and I tell you, if you call Inaho Odin one more time, I’ll stab you with a spoon.”  
  
“Odin?”  
“Well, what with his whole insisting on piloting Sleipnir instead of Areion and his eye”, Calm begins, tapping his left temple, and obviously misinterprets Slaine freezing in his spot upon already dreading what would follow, generously explaining: “Right, if you only met him recently, you might only have heard of it third-hand, but after that Troyard bastard shot him through the eye, he had an Analytical Engine prototype implanted. That thing was scarily powerful, I tell you.”  
“Mostly it was just plain scary”, Inko says quietly, and her face darkens. “It almost killed him, no gaining of advantage should ever be worth such a sacrifice.”

“He said he had it removed because he no longer needs it”, Slaine hears himself spill before he can think about it.  
“Are you an idiot, Lieutenant? Do you really believe someone like Inaho would voluntarily give up both his normal eyesight and the most advanced bionic engine science here has created yet?”  
Rayet stares at Slaine with obvious judging disappointment, and he shakes his head automatically.

“His cranial nerves are too damaged to support any new implant, even a less advanced and taxing model”, Inko adds, listlessly stabbing at her food now.  
“Come on, he survived and has sustained no lasting damage, that’s what counts!”, Nina chirps, patting her friend on the back. “To Inaho, it’s probably just, what’s it called in golf? The thing when you play in a harder mode in order to face a bigger challenge-”  
“Handicap.”

All of them turn in unison towards Inaho, who approaches the table completely straight-faced.  
“Oh, hey Inaho!” Nina greets him cheerfully, apparently completely above feeling caught in the act of gossiping about her friend. “Finished customising your Kataphrakt?”  
“Yes”, Inaho replies, sitting down to Slaine’s right side and starting to eat, obviously content ignoring the weird atmosphere at the table.

“With no intel on the enemy yet, what did you customise?”, Slaine asks, trying to not show too much he is actually grateful that Inaho has returned and saved him from even more trying interrogations at the hands of his friends, and more scaring up painful memories.  
Inaho takes his time replying.  
“I’ve got to have the cockpit of every frame I pilot completely remodelled”, he then explains, “All monitors and panels past 130 degrees have to be repositioned or their functions integrated in others.”

Slaine feels as if exposed to a sudden gravitational shift when Inaho draws a line in the air with his fork, from the eyepatch covering the side of his face that is turned towards Slaine at the mentioned angle, indicating his blind spot.  
“I really don’t get how you can be so casual about that”, Inko complains in a distressed tone, but when Inaho replies, Slaine somehow thinks that it is more addressed to him than anyone else, even if Inaho is not looking at him.  
“I don’t mind, I’ve learned to manage with one eye just fine. And for the minimal deficiency that remains, I’ve got you to back me up, so why worry about what I can’t change?”

  
Afterwards, the conversation drifts to less trauma-bound topics to Slaine’s relief, and even though he notices that he obviously has ended up with the two least communicative participants on one bench, the exchanges wash above him easily, as if he is the only static rock in a steady stream, parting the ripples. It is not unpleasant, and sometimes, one of Inaho’s friends tries to direct a question at him in order to include him, as well.  
It is a curious mix of reminiscing schooldays and talking politics brought to the table. This, then, has to be what normality is for Inaho, Slaine thinks, and he is just a little jealous.

He learns that Inaho has been top of the class and somehow still manages to know the answers to all maths problems that seem to plague Calm even though he quit school without awaiting official graduation after the war, that a new Aldnoah Reactor is stationed not far from where the assassination attempt had taken place in the middle of the rebuilt city of Shinawara, that food at the school cafeteria is still subpar with exception of the croquette bread, that Asseylum’s popularity amongst Earth’s citizens is steadily rising in surveys, that Nina had turned down five confession just the past two months, and that _Things are pretty good, everything considered._

 

“I’m glad to see you’re getting along”, Inaho states when the two of them head back towards their room after lunch, in preparation of the imminent departure of the ship, even though according to Inaho, smooth travel is to be expected.  
“Well, they’re nice, but it wouldn’t matter either way, would it?”  
Inaho looks almost surprised, and Slaine wonders if just maybe, this praised war genius truly is the type that gets so caught up in whatever he is doing that sometimes, he misses out on the absolute obvious.

“This is not going to last, after all, as soon as this mission is over, I’ll never see anyone of them again for the rest of my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> Tyr is the God of Combat, Justice and Victory in the Icelandic tradition of the Edda, though the exact origins are uncertain and he probably existed as a God of the Sky in a previous religion. Depending on the version, he is described as either a (blood)brother to or (adopted) son of Odin. He took care of the wolf Fenris, which is destined to slay Odin at the götterdämmerung, until it was chained up by the other Gods.  
> In the _Interpretatio Romana_ he is equaled with the Roman God of War, Mars.


	8. Vs/046: Recall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Unless the meteorological conditions change drastically, we should arrive at our destination in about fourteen hours”, Inaho answers a question asked by no-one, and Slaine sighs._   
>  _“That’s a lot of time to kill. What did you do on these travels? During the war, I mean.”_   
>  _The corners of Inaho’s lips twitch._   
>  _“Think about how to defeat you, and try and predict your next move.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which things are remembered and forgotten._

_“All hands, prepare for take-off.”_

The disembodied voice from the speaker is followed by a cracking sound and an alarm tone signifying the immediate departure of the ship.  
They are sitting with their backs against the wall on Inaho’s bed, with nothing to stare at but the grey steel wall on the opposite side of the room, and wait. It is the calm before the storm and the next fight that Slaine is long familiar with, but it is the first time he has ever felt the awkward in-betweenness as strongly as now.

“Unless the meteorological conditions change drastically, we should arrive at our destination in about fourteen hours”, Inaho answers a question asked by no-one, and Slaine sighs.  
“That’s a lot of time to kill. What did you do on these travels? During the war, I mean.”  
The corners of Inaho’s lips twitch.  
“Think about how to defeat you, and try and predict your next move.”

Slaine stares at him from the side, but as usual, Inaho manages to keep his face in perfect control upon being scrutinised.  
“Well, you obviously don’t have to keep doing that anymore”, he says slowly, and Inaho really smiles this time, tapping on the laptop that is lying next to him.  
“We could always play chess to spend the time.”

Slaine huffs and is just about to ask whatever really gave Inaho the idea that he is as fond of chess as the other obviously is - it is not as if he hates it, or has no talent for it, of that his few wins against Inaho are indisputable proof; he simply had never considered it something people did for fun so much as training of their strategic skills - when a sudden jerk goes through the entire ship. It is an oddly nostalgic feeling of the forces of acceleration settling in after months of standstill in a grounded prison as the ship lifts off ground, and Slaine does not need a window to picture the rapid ascension.

“This ship’s Aldnoah Drive”, he starts slowly, staring at the walls that he knows somewhere lead to a hall centring the ship’s heart, and remembering what Kataphrakt it had been salvaged from originally with the peculiar mixture of sadness and bitterness that comes with everything having to do with his adoptive father, “it’s powered by Her Highness, isn’t it?”  
Inaho seems to hesitate for a second.  
“No, it’s powered by me. I thought you were aware.”

Slaine snaps around to stare at Inaho, but the other is looking at the palm of his hand resting on his knees now, as if there were be visible traces of Aldnoah’s activation factor running through his veins.  
“When Count Saazbaum shot Asseylum back in Novostalsk”, Inaho continues quietly, and Slaine is overcome by the familiar sensation of his heart seizing up at the memory of this cursed day, “her heart must have stopped for a short time, and this ship broke down. When they recovered me from the wreckage of the Landing Castle, they noticed I had come into contact with royal blood. It was a remote chance, but it turned out to be the correct assumption.”

“Aldnoah is a chain infection.”  
Slaine notices his own voice sounds strained and hollow, and he closes his eyes, leaning back and resting his head against the cool metal wall. Sometimes, he wishes he had lost all of his memories, just as the Princess had because of his treason back in Saazbaum’s Aldnoah activation chamber, that he could be nothing but a blank slate with vague recollections of happier days, and that this person next to him would be nothing but a foreign military official that had no ties to him whatsoever.  
“I resuscitated her once before, after a”, the tiniest pause in Inaho’s sentence has Slaine open his eyes again, but the other’s face betrays nothing, “choking incident. She recovered immediately from it, and I don’t think she was aware she had passed it on to me.”

“I see.”  
For a while, the only sound audible is the distant hum of the engine. It is a heavy silence between them, filled with all the words that are unsaid but do not even have to be uttered. It is obvious that both of them had lied, Slaine now knows for sure, when they had claimed Asseylum to be a part of their plans or just something existing in a vacuum with no ties to what they are doing, and no matter what shortcomings Kaizuka Inaho might have, he certainly is not lacking devotion to Her Highness. Yet, in the end it had probably been the fact that both of them still had chosen to tread the paths of deceit and suspicion that had ultimately lead them further away from her side.

“Wait a second”, Slaine suddenly realises, and Inaho looks back up at him, “so you’re saying you were the only Aldnoah user to the United Forces and this ship solely relied on you staying alive, and you still went to battle at the frontline?”  
Inaho blinks.  
“Of course.”  
“You almost _died_ there, you barely made it out alive on our second encounter! Why would you put your army’s arguably most valuable asset at risk like that!”

“All of you Counts went into battle in person, too, I fail to see your point”, Inaho says dismissively, and there is a stubborn tone to his voice. Slaine wonders if driving people up walls might be a special talent of this person, he is almost sure of it.  
“You know, I know you have _me_ flagged as suicidal, but I honestly think you’re on the same level”, he taunts, shaking his head.  
“I’m not”, Inaho disagrees flatly.

“You voluntarily opted for dropping school in favour of travelling around Earth fighting leftover battles and visiting the person who shot you in the head, I’m pretty sure that’s not mentally sound.”  
Inaho shrugs, apparently not the least bit offended.  
“Maybe not, but that’s not the same thing as having a death wish. I won’t die on this mission, and neither will you. As long as that’s what I’m convinced of, there’s no issue, is there?”

“That kind of conviction is the same as wishful thinking, you can’t be certain of that outcome.”  
“I know I can rely on my own strength and skill, and on that of my comrades. I have no reason to doubt a thing.”  
They stare at each other for a while, both in obvious defiance.

“You said that Her Highness would most likely disapprove of you bringing me back to the battlefield, but how come she doesn’t object to you doing it to yourself?” Slaine then asks, and cannot stop himself from adding the small jab at the wound they both share, more or less concealed.  
“I think she is. Disapproving, I mean.”  
Inaho pulls at the hem of his sleeve slightly, brushing over the gold thread signifying his rank almost fondly.

“I had an instructor at school who returned from Heaven’s Fall heavily traumatised, and he still remained in the military.“  
Slaine blinks at the sudden change of topic, but realises that Inaho is probably just being roundabout again. He has a habit of approaching core matters in the oddest ways, Slaine had learned from everything in between fighting against him with weapons and chess pieces and talking about scientific phenomena and Versian armoury.  
“Did you ever ask why?“  
Inaho shakes his head.  
“But I think I understand it now, a little. War changes people, and no-one escapes unscathed and without blood on their hands, neither you, nor me.“

Slaine feels his lips pull into a bitter smile.  
“And yet, you continue.”  
“Because it’s what I _can_ do.”  
“You can do a lot of things with your talents. Granted, maybe not become a conversationalist, but still. We’re heading towards an era of peace, haven’t you heard, General?”

“In the past four Millenia, it’s estimated only a total of 230 years were devoid of war, not taking into account smaller feuds between clans or tribes”, Inaho explains calmly as if they were students working on a history class presentation and not former enemies onboard of the same warship headed to forcefully end a small rebellion. “So naturally, this era of peace, too, will be disrupted sooner or later, and then I want to be there to protect it.”

“You take Her Highness too lightly, if she puts her mind to something, she will definitely make it come true”, Slaine insists vehemently, and Inaho smiles.  
“Asseylum is a very strong-willed person, yes, and the ceasefire we’re experiencing now is thanks to her. However, I just can’t believe in the utopia of an entirely peaceful future.”  
Because all it takes to fall apart again is one more person like Count Saazbaum or me, Slaine thinks, and the way Inaho averts his gaze tells him that it is exactly what he is thinking, too.

And in such a case, Asseylum would need to have knights at her side willing to protect her at the cost of their own lives, truly, this time, and Slaine does not have to ask to know that Inaho intends to become just that until he dies. Unlike Slaine himself, he had not thrown away this chance, and even for that, Slaine cannot hate him.

It is not only what he had done to him back in Novostalsk that had transformed him. Slaine remembers the way that even during their first encounter Inaho had already been composed, strong and level-headed, and without being able to see him face to face, he had always assumed the pilot of the orange Kataphrakt to be an accomplished senior soldier, not a boy his age devoid of actual combat experience. Maybe Inaho had been destined to follow this road from the beginning on, someone who needs war as much as he wishes for it to end.

“Look at us, feeling all world weary like shell-shocked veterans already, and we’re not even twenty yet”, he breaks the silence dragging on between them with a soft, short laugh, and is surprised when Inaho actually joins in.  
“It’s because you understand”, he then murmurs, and it feels as if there is nothing more to say.

 

It might have been a few minutes or even half an hour later, Slaine has lost the interest in trying to keep track of time long ago during days where it did not matter to know, that Inaho wordlessly leans over to retrieve his laptop, putting it up between them on the bed and opening a programme. Immediately, the unmistakeable grid of a chessboard appears on the screen, and Slaine sighs in defeat.  
“Black or white?”  
At least he is given some choices. Inaho is not a cruel person, most of the time.

“Black. They say _White begins, but it’s black that wins,_ right?”  
“That myth is statistically disproven”, Inaho immediately interjects in that factual tone of his, “Even if the first move of white is equivalent to zugzwang later, in the end, the best player wins. It’s as simple as that.”  
“Well, in that case, may the better of us win, then.”  
Inaho smiles.  
“Pawn to e4. Good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _iv. indirect kiss_
> 
> _“Aldnoah is a chain infection.”_
> 
> _“Are you trying to ask me if I kissed the Princess?”_
> 
> _“The only other option would be her grandfather.”_
> 
> _“Are you speaking from experience?”_
> 
> _“.... can we pretend this conversation never happened?”_


	9. Vs/047: Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Inaho’s hand comes up to cover for the eyepatch still stashed beneath his pillow at the same time that Slaine reaches out, abruptly stopping centimetres from his face. It is only a fraction of a second before he pulls back as if burned, swiftly standing up and taking a few steps back until he hits the wall on the opposite side of the cabin, his fingers now clenched into a fist at his side, face turned towards the door._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which going forward means stepping back._

 “Kaizuka Inaho.”  
Inaho stirs at the sound, unfamiliar and close, and it takes a few seconds until his mind, still foggy with sleep, is up to speed again. He blinks and squints into the relative darkness of the small cabin where only the nighttime emergency lighting barely illuminates the figure crouching next to his bed.  
“What”, he manages, sleepily brushing his fringe back and turning to his side so he can look at the other face to face.  
“We’re landing”, Slaine simply states, and Inaho scowls.

“Did I sleep through the alarm?”  
Slaine shakes his head.  
“There’s been no announcement yet, but I can feel it.”  
Inaho has to admit that if there is one thing he is truly envious of Slaine for, it is the fact that he seems to be a natural born pilot with senses keen enough to pick up on these changes in pressure or altitude even with no instruments. Instead of voicing this thought, he yawns and flicks on the light on the panel next to the headboard.

“Thanks for the head-start, then”, he murmurs, and it is only when he turns back to get up that he notices Slaine is staring at him.  
Inaho’s hand comes up to cover for the eyepatch still stashed beneath his pillow at the same time that Slaine reaches out, abruptly stopping centimetres from his face. It is only a fraction of a second before he pulls back as if burned, swiftly standing up and taking a few steps back until he hits the wall on the opposite side of the cabin, his fingers now clenched into a fist at his side, face turned towards the door. 

“I didn’t intend for you to see it”, Inaho breaks the silence, reaching for the piece of leather and putting it on with practiced ease, one more muscle memory amongst many. “I know it makes people uncomfortable.”  
Slaine makes a strangled noise at that, somewhere between a sneer and an utterance of pain, but still does not look back.  
“I can’t have a new implant, and a glass eye just for cosmetics is more trouble than it’s worth, especially given that it breaking and causing further damage in combat is an unnecessary risk, so I decided to just let it heal over”, Inaho explains calmly, getting up himself now and stretching. It had to be somewhere between three and four in the morning, and while he had hoped to skip this conversation entirely, now that it has inevitably come up, this time and place is as good as any.

He is caught entirely off guard when Slaine whips around, his hands clasping both of Inaho’s shoulders, shaking, and Inaho thinks he has not seen the other that furious ever since his first visits after the end of the war.  
“How can you even bear to look at me? Is it because you get a feeling of gratification at reminding me of what I did?! How can you stand there and-”  
Inaho reacts automatically at the assault before he even thinks, hands coming up to break the hold the other has on him at the crooks of his arms with an attempted move of using the momentum to throw him off balance and twist his arm, but Slaine reacts just as swiftly, letting go and ducking away beneath Inaho’s strike.

The edge of his hand hits Inaho’s left side just below the rib cage, not with enough force to have him double over, but enough to have him catch his breath for just a second, taking half a step back. One second too many, and Slaine comes up on him in one smooth movement that speaks of years of practice, pushing him backwards with one precise double handed thrust against his sternum, and Inaho hits the metal bedpost with a hiss of pain, immediately pinned in his position by Slaine’s forearm against his throat. It is in the delicate balance between just holding him in place and actually applying more pressure than comfortable, and Inaho wills himself into dropping any attempt at panicky resistance, letting his mind go through all the defensive moves he could employ.  
He calmly meets Slaine’s eyes, narrowed and more alive than Inaho remembers them being in a very long time.

“I don’t need your feigned forgiveness”, Slaine grits out, and Inaho simply blinks, unimpressed.  
“I’ve never said I forgive you.”  
Slaine makes no move to pull back, but looks startled, and Inaho takes the chance, grabbing hold of Slaine’s wrist with one hand, yanking, and punching his arm inward with the other while simultaneously bringing his foot in between Slaine’s ankles with a small twist. Slaine falls, but before Inaho has the chance to dive after him and put a hold on him, he rolls to the side as far as the small space of the cabin allows, getting up on his feet immediately, holding his right shoulder with a grimace of pain.

For a few seconds, they stand in their opposite corners with only a few steps separating them, and Inaho fights the feeling of losing control.

 

“ _You have to be entirely insane to make this proposition, Kaizuka”_ , the disbelieving voice of the general at the council echoes in his mind. “ _This man is a traitor and a mass murderer, and you seriously don’t want him anywhere near weapons. What guarantee do you have he won’t shoot you in the back or strangle you in your sleep at the earliest opportunity?”  
“He’ll do everything to protect Empress Asseylum’s safety”, _Inaho had insisted, _“and as long as this mission is bound by this objective, there’s no way he’ll turn against me.”  
“You misunderstand, I think_”, Häkkinen had said, face twisted with worry and doubt. “ _Once he’s free, Troyard has no need for you, and no reason to protect you in any way or form. He might go after the renegade knight, but there’s no way of being sure he won’t take you out alongside him. He has all reason for a personal vendetta against you, from how I see it.”_

Inaho had already seen his one chance drift away, a shot he had taken that had for once missed its mark, when there had been a hand on his shoulder, suddenly.  
“ _No matter what you may think of him, Slaine Troyard is someone bound by the honour principles of our tradition. I’m confident he’ll agree to the terms if presented with the offer, and won’t act against them. If General Kaizuka is willing to take the risk and mission of supervising him, I have absolute faith in his decision.”  
_ Inaho had turned to look at the young emperor in surprise, who had given him a small smile in response, before turning his attention back to the council.  
“ _As the official representative of the Vers Empire, I voice my support of General Kaizuka’s plan. Even if Slaine Troyard is a prisoner of Earth, he is still a citizen of my country, and in the unlikely case that anything should happen, I will personally take full responsibility._ ” 

When the meeting had been dismissed with the announcement that the request would have to be brought up to the Admiral to consider first, Inaho had caught up with Klancain in the hallway, who had waved at his suspicious guards to stand down and smiled at Inaho equal parts businesslike and friendly.  
“ _I wanted to thank you for your support, Emperor Cruhteo”_ , Inaho had stated with a small bow, and immediately, the other man had flinched and motioned at him to straighten up again.  
“ _Please, just Klancain is fine in this environment. And you have nothing to thank me for, Kaizuka-san. I don’t think there’s anyone who Asseylum trusts more than you, so far be it from me to not do the same as my wife_.” He had taken one step closer, leaning in and regarding Inaho with earnest attention. “ _However, a word of warning - if anything really should happen, I don’t think even she can protect him any longer, let alone either of us. It’s not your life you’re gambling here so much as his.”  
_ “ _I know.”_

 

“I didn’t suggest you coming along because I want to forgive you, or because I pity you”, Inaho says, rubbing his left wrist gently, sure that the force of impact against Slaine’s arm would leave bruises, but not dropping his guard this time. “I did so because I thought you might be useful to this mission and that it would be a waste to leave a perfectly capable fighter behind, given that we’re not exactly having an overabundance of them left, no thanks to you.”  
Slaine makes a noncommittal sound, slowly rolling his shoulder, but Inaho can tell that the tension and aggression are fading from his body, and then he is only standing there, leaning against the wall and watching Inaho with an expression that he cannot decipher.

 “Whatever I think of you is irrelevant, and I don’t care if you feel bad about my eye or anything that happened in the past or not. The only thing I need is your cooperation and support in battle. If you can’t manage that, this agreement ends here and you’ll be transferred back to the safe-house.”  
For a moment, Inaho expects Slaine will deny the offer out of spite, but when he opens his mouth, it is not his voice that fills the heavy silence between them. 

“ _This is Captain Magbaredge speaking, all hands, brace for landing in t minus ten minutes. Upon landing, every soldier is report to their respective Squad Leader immediately. Bridge, over.”_

When Slaine crosses the room this time, it is slow and deliberate, and straight past Inaho headed to where his Kat gear and uniform are stored at the end of his bed. Inaho is still wondering whether he should ask once more, reaffirm their unwritten contract, when Slaine turns his head towards him, his facial expression almost daring.

“You heard the Captain. You should better get ready, Squad Leader.”


	10. Vs/048: Regroup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Yuki, that’s my Lieutenant Tyr Flygehunder. Tyr, this is my sister, Lieutenant Yuki Kaizuka.”_   
>  _The sentence feels like a slap to the face to Slaine for a second, and he barely registers the woman saying: “Aah, my little brother’s XO? Thank you for taking care of him, he’s a handful.”_   
>  _“Brother”, he echoes, staring past her at Inaho whose expression betrays nothing._   
>  _“Don’t tell me Nao has never once mentioned his wonderful older sister to you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which the team is completed._

It is still dark when they step outside onto the staging, the chill of the early morning hours greeting them, instantly waking up even those who had looked more akin to sleepwalkers on the ship, still. Slaine notices how Inaho tenses up slightly, tugging the sleeves of the pullover he wears beneath the uniform jacket further down. They have not exchanged a word ever since leaving their cabin behind, and Slaine wonders how it is possible that no-one notices anything odd about them, the dull throbbing in his shoulder and wrist a very clear and real reminder to himself that nothing is normal.

Yet, when they reach the airfield, they are greeted by Inko and Rayet with half enthusiastic shouting and half wordless composure, and neither seems to find anything wrong with their friend and his supposedly trusted companion walking up to them in complete silence and noticeable distance from another.  
“Rayet Areash and Inko Amifumi hereby officially reporting to their Squad Leader, the esteemed General Kaizuka, Sir.”  
Inko salutes with obvious mockery of her friend, and to Slaine’s surprise, Inaho actually smiles. 

“Noted. Let’s head inside then, given we’re complete, it’s cold out here.”  
Trotting behind Inaho and Inko merrily chatting away at him towards the tower and buildings already brightly lit and brimming with activity, Slaine suddenly catches Rayet stare at him from the side.  
“Not a morning person, are you?” she asks incidentally, but there is something almost probing to her tone.  
“I suppose”, Slaine just replies with a shrug, and she does not inquire further. 

 

They have barely made it past the entrance hall when for the second time in two days, Slaine watches in frozen shock as someone seemingly out of nowhere tackles Inaho, only keeping him from falling over by holding on in what seems to be a rib-crushing embrace.  
“Ah, here we go again.”  
“Wha-”, he begins asking Rayet who looks amused the same second that there is a soft: “Yuki, I can’t breathe.”  
“Sorry”, the assailant apologises, stepping back a bit, and Slaine now can discern it is a woman in military uniform, a little older than the rest of Inaho’s team, and also that she is positively radiant with happiness. “I got carried away.”

The woman turns towards the rest of them, not letting her arm drop from Inaho’s shoulders, while he makes no attempt to move away from her side, either.  
“Inko, Rayet, good to see you. Mizusaki said you volunteered, but I wasn’t sure you’d really come. And you are..?”  
Slaine notices she is directly looking at him now, but before he can answer, Inaho steps into the breach for him. He is probably still afraid Slaine might mess up, he thinks, slightly annoyed.  
“Yuki, that’s my Lieutenant Tyr Flygehunder. Tyr, this is my sister, Lieutenant Yuki Kaizuka.”

The sentence feels like a slap to the face to Slaine for a second, and he barely registers the woman saying: “Aah, my little brother’s XO? Thank you for taking care of him, he’s a handful.”  
“Brother”, he echoes, staring past her at Inaho whose expression betrays nothing.  
“Don’t tell me Nao has never once mentioned his wonderful older sister to you.”  
When Slaine automatically shakes his head, she slaps Inaho’s shoulder lightly.  
“Typical.”  
“Sorry, Yuki.”

Inaho does not remotely look like he is. It is odd, Slaine realises, because there had logically speaking never been any reason for him to assume Inaho had no family of his own. Now that he thinks about it, for all he knew Inaho could have parents and grand-parents, still, and another five siblings in the military - there had never been any indicator as to that he should not have. Yet, somehow he had always pictured Inaho as a solitary person, the way he seems mature beyond his years and naturally authoritative. Even if seeing him with his friends had shattered part of that mental image already yesterday, Slaine would never have expected the calculating and emotionally detached person he had gotten Inaho to know as to be this visibly close and attached to someone.

There is only one explanation for his false reasoning, Slaine notes with a feeling of bitterness, and that is that automatically, he had foolishly assumed Inaho to be just like him in all aspects of their warped lives. But of course, even in this regard Inaho has what Slaine could never have dreamed to possess.

“Actually, could it be we’ve met before?”  
Yuki Kaizuka’s voice tears him from his moment of self-pity, and when he turns his focus back to her, he sees she is intently staring at him, a small crease between her brows. Slaine  
thinks to himself that even if the colour is different, her eyes are the same as her brother’s, and that she is a person who probably misses out on very little.  
“I don’t think we have, Lieutenant”, he replies honestly, and she smiles apologetically, even though the expression in her eyes does not entirely change.  
“I must have mixed something up, then. Anyway, nice to meet you, and may we work well together on this mission.”

“How long have you been here?” Inko asks, and Slaine is relieved to see that again, apparently no-one had not found anything odd with the constellation of Inaho and himself and their lack of mutual understanding.  
“We arrived last week, took us some time to bring all the equipment here into the middle of nowhere. But approaching from the sea was no good, they lost five ships to that attempt during the war.”  
“You’re not going to join the Mustang Platoon again, right?” Rayet asks. If not for her keeping a straight face as usual, Slaine would have assumed she might be a bit unhappy about the fact.  
“Ah, no, since-” 

“Since your little brother up and went and snatched away his sister’s position as the Squad Leader when you weren’t looking. Today’s youth is inconsiderate like that.”  
Their little group still standing probably in other people’s way in the entrance hall is approached by yet another person, a high ranking officer going by his uniform, who smiles and gives Inaho’s sister a pat on the back that has her almost stumble forward.  
“Don’t be too upset. Good to see you’re doing well, Kaizuka Junior.” Then, as an obvious afterthought: “I mean, General.”  
“Do it properly or not at all, Captain Marito”, Inaho chides without any edge to it, finally gently stepping out of his sisters embrace and nodding at the other in greeting. “It’s good to see you.” 

“I don’t like disrupting your pleasant chat, but Captain Magbaredge lost no time summoning the first strategy meeting. Yes, I know, it’s not even six in the morning yet.” The Captain yawns while Inaho’s sister sighs. “Anyway, I’m afraid it’s only for the higher ranks so far, so Amifumi, Areash, you can go and rest a bit more. I’m envious, really.”  
“You’re setting a poor example, Captain”, Yuki complains, but he looks entirely unperturbed by her criticism, already walking towards the stairs at the other end of the hall.  
“Alright, I’ll see you later”, Inaho says towards Inko and Rayet, before turning to Slaine. “You’re coming along, of course. Let’s go.”

  

“Welcome to Alice Springs, Captain, General.”  
Slaine glances around the meeting room, taking in the topographical maps and data charts on the walls with interest. It is a rather small space, nothing compared to the grand meeting halls of the Landing Castles, and it obviously is an equally small team of people tasked with this operation. The focus is on the Deucalion’s captain and on the genius prodigy, and no-one pays him any attention. 

“This is Lieutenant Stanton, our local Squad Leader, and that over there is Warrant Officer Martinez who will be in charge of the second platoon”, he hears Captain Marito introduce the only two people present he had not met yet, and he turns his head back towards the men standing on the other side of the light table.  
“Nice to meet you”, the younger says, the other just nods silently in greeting. 

“Likewise. You’ve been here the longest, Lieutenant Stanton, do you have any more information on the Count that wasn’t included in the file?”, Captain Magbaredge asks, and the man’s expression turns sour instantly.  
“Quite the opposite, Ma’am. So far, we didn’t even get a look that Count’s damn Kat.”  
“As soon as we approached it during scouting missions, we were attacked by both the Castle itself and its airforce. He seems to have one slightly larger in number than average. The inaccessible terrain cutting off the landing site from the mainland surely doesn’t help, either”, his Officer supplies, pointing out the spots on the map spread out on the table in between them.  
“Maybe he doesn’t have a Kataphrakt?” the short-haired woman Slaine remembers seeing on the Deucalion’s bridge before suggests, and he finds himself answering before he thinks. 

“Every Clan of Orbital Knights has at least one Kataphrakt in possession. There’s no record of Count Geine participating in any fights on soil during the First Interplanetary war, or of his Landing Castle even descending. Unless he should have voluntarily scrapped his Clan’s most valuable possession, there’s no reason to assume he doesn’t still have it.”  
“So why is he holding it back, then?” Captain Marito asks, and Captain Magbaredge huffs.  
“Probably so that we get no intel on it before a real confrontation. He must have noticed there’s a certain pattern to our side figuring out their Achilles’ Heel once they engage, and us taking them out the following encounter.” 

“He’s been preparing for a battle for sure. They definitely noticed us arriving here, and there’s no way they missed out on the Deucalion going past their airspace, either”, Stanton agrees.  
His Officer tilts his head in thought, before speaking up, sounding a bit hesitant.  
“But, isn’t it possible that he’s holding back because it’s a type of Martian Kataphrakt we’ve seen before, as well? I mean, that would curb his chances of success even mo-”  
“No”, Slaine interrupts, ignoring the attention shifting towards him. If he understands the UFE ranks correctly, he is of higher standing than Martinez, he thinks, and he definitely did not let Inaho drag him along to listen to hypotheses he knows not to be true. “Each of the Vers Kataphraktoi is unique, because it’s the proof of the Knight’s tenure to the Emperor. It’s a matter of honour to try and make it stand-out from the other Knights’ Kataphraktoi.” 

“We’ve encountered some with the same abilities before”, Yuki argues, looking at him with an expression he cannot quite read, “that Count we fought at Novostalsk, that was the same shielding as in Shinawara, wasn’t it?”  
“Dioscura had to be rebuilt after sustaining heavy damage during Heaven’s Fall, and Count Saazbaum relied on Aldnoah Engine types of allied Knights for that.” 

A beat of silence follows his words, and Slaine already begins wondering if he had messed up anywhere, purposefully avoiding looking at Inaho standing next to him just in case, when Captain Magbaredge speaks up.  
“You sure are very knowledgeable about Vers armoury, Lieutenant, you must have studied the archives quite diligently. I guess I can see why Kaizuka Junior keeps you around.“

“Be that as it may, I don’t understand why that guy even still wants to battle, I mean, even a deluded idiot should have realised by now that it’s over, right? He’s up against all of the United Forces and the alliance of the Vers Empire, after all, all he can do is spend his last ammo on us before we kill him.”  
Lieutenant Stanton steps back from the table, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and frowns.  
“Must be an honour thing, going out with a bang rather than submitting or whatever”, Martinez agrees. 

Slaine feels a hand on his arm at that statement, and when he looks down in surprise, he sees it is Inaho’s, while the person himself keeps looking straight ahead, a displeased small frown on his face.  
“I think it would be dangerous to underestimate or trivialise an enemy like that”, he states calmly, and Slaine manages to hold back a laugh.  
He carefully wrestles free from Inaho’s grip, and replies evenly: “It might just be his sense of duty to die for the old order and Emperor rather than surrendering to the new terms, or it might be an attempt to create disturbance in the new alliance. Either way, from the caution with which Count Geine has and currently is proceeding, I doubt he’s a suicidal maniac. You should be careful.”

There is sullen silence from the other two men at that, and Inaho turns to look at him, almost surprised.  
“You didn’t really think I’d lose my countenance at that”, Slaine whispers, but Inaho only shrugs, turning his attention back to the soldiers.  
“You’re definitely right in assuming there’s no way the Count missed out on our arrival here, and since he most definitely knows about the Deucalion’s firepower, he’s actually the one with the advantage on us.” 

“So what do you suggest, Kaizuka Junior? Do we wait until he comes to us, or do we attack first?”  
Captain Marito looks expectant, and Slaine realises that truly, no matter how many adult and experienced soldiers are present, no matter if there could be a vote of many voices against him, the one who called the shots is Inaho.  
“I say we move first. If we win, we win, if not, we might at least manage to lure him out in the open and find his weak spot.”  
“Sounds reasonable”, Captain Magbaredge agrees, leaning in over the map and tracing a line northwards.

“We could drop you off further into his territory and provide back-up for the time being, although I would rather like to avoid a direct charge at the Landing Castle with this little intel on it.”  
Slaine thinks to himself that just a little in the past, he would have thought a charge on a Landing Castle impossible in the first place, but apparently really nothing is to this crew of individuals. He looks at Inaho and finds the other pensively looking at the map, in full concentration.  
“Agreed. Let’s depart as soon as we have daylight. I’ll figure something out, one way or the other.”

 


	11. Vs/049 : Rapprochement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So far, he’s always come up with a plan that lead to success no matter what”, Inko just assures him vividly, “and I’m certain he will again, this time.”_   
>  _“To be fair, we’ve also had our close calls despite all his planning”, Calm interjects, “for example at the harbour, when the Mizusaki came to save us in the last second, or else we’d have been toast. Not to mention Tanegashima.”_   
>  _Slaine tries hard not to show he had just bitten his cheek in between chewing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which final preparations are made._

If not for Inaho seeming to be everything but a person who runs from problems or awkward situations, Slaine might almost have thought the other had been very happy getting rid off his presence, especially given that him staying at his alleged General’s side 24/7 had been the main condition for this entire operation. Yet, as soon as Inaho had more or less singlehandedly laid out the attack plan for the day, he had dismissed Slaine with a vague _Go have breakfast and report back at the Deucalion’s docks in full gear pre-departure_.

Slaine had wondered for a second whether, just for the sake of the argument, he should point out to Inaho that leaving him entirely without specific surveillance on a military base with an abundance of weapons and vehicles in reach and just outside the territory of an enemy that by all common logic used to be Slaine’s ally in the past was a completely irresponsible idea. But then he had decided that there had been no way Inaho was not aware of all of this, he just did not care. Whatever downright irrational trust he had in Slaine, apparently it was steadfast, and so, Slaine had simply given up and joined a delighted Inko and her friends at the canteen.

He had relayed the basics of the meeting to them, and gotten detailed retellings of Inaho’s previous genius strategies in return. Even if only bits of it are true, Slaine thinks, then he had been right in fearing Inaho as the most competent and dangerous member of the UFE, probably.  
“So far, he’s always come up with a plan that lead to success no matter what”, Inko just assures him vividly, “and I’m certain he will again, this time.”  
“To be fair, we’ve also had our close calls despite all his planning”, Calm interjects, “for example at the harbour, when the Mizusaki came to save us in the last second, or else we’d have been toast. Not to mention Tanegashima.”

Slaine tries hard not to show he had just bitten his cheek in between chewing.  
“Don’t remind me”, Inko groans, pushing her tray away in favour of collapsing on the table with a sigh. “I swear, if Inaho ever puts me through something like that again without warning, I’ll-”  
“It worked out, didn’t it?” Rayet argues with a shrug, and Nina adds: “We got the Deucalion out of it, so it was worth the trouble.”  
“Still, we only barely made it out of there due some fishy person showing out of nowhere and first helping us and then opening fire at Inaho just minutes later. Let’s hope that won’t ever happen again.”

“It won’t”, Slaine says with a wry smile, and when they look at him in surprise, he elaborates on a different point that is true as well: “This is plan A, if things should go awry, the Vers Empire will send back-up, you can be sure of that. I trust they want to avoid inner turmoil by not engaging with full force from the get-go, but if anything should happen, they won’t sit idly by when the United Forces’ most valuable asset is in trouble.”  
Whatever their most valuable asset truly is, Slaine thinks to himself. From the sound of it, Inaho could probably have won the war in old-fashioned tank, too, if one had given him enough time to work with it, and the Deucalion was more of an added bonus. He notes this with a detached sentiment of respect, not envy.

“That’s reassuring to know that should we all die, they’ll at least avenge us”, Rayet comments dryly, and on that optimistic note, they pack up and head back to the ship, Slaine tagging along without further attempts at trying to maintain distance.  
Arriving back at the cabin, he sees that Inaho must have come by in the meantime, since his regular uniform is neatly folded up on the lower bed. Slaine follows the example, changing into the still somewhat uncomfortable Kat suit with all its security belts and collars, before heading the way he had followed Inaho the entire past day down towards the armoury of the ship.

 

Slaine has no trouble finding Inaho in the mass of soldiers crowding the docking hall, courtesy to there only being one of the orange trainer Kataphraktoi in sight, and it being easier to search out the machine than its unassuming pilot who would surely be near it.  
“Why are you using that one again?” he asks in lieu of any type of greeting when in audible distance from the other, who is wearing the uniform Slaine had last seen splattered with blood on a cold day in December, and Inaho turns towards him in mild surprise. Once again, Slaine is being scrutinised, but this time, Inaho apparently finds nothing wrong with his Kat suit and gear. He should probably be grateful that he would not be fussed over in the middle of the general commotion, Slaine thinks sarcastically. By now, it really is the little things that make this whole undertaking less absurd.

“The KG-6 Sleipnir? It’s lighter in build and therefore slightly faster and more manoeuvrable than its successor”, Inaho then explains readily, and Slaine is suddenly very sure that this is a discussion Inaho has led more often, “and also, I’m more used to it. I definitely won’t change it now when I had to get re-familiarised with piloting in general just recently.”  
“Are you really okay, piloting like that?“  
Slaine does not have to elaborate on his question, and Inaho squares his shoulders ever so slightly.

“You should have been more worried about me driving a car“, he replies dryly, “given that piloting a Kataphrakt relies entirely on data based navigation and not eye-sight.“  
Apparently noticing Slaine’s unease, he continues in a friendlier tone: “I won’t lie and say that the doctor was happy with my decision to keep going even after the severe stress I put on my brain during the last days of the war, but as long as I don’t overdo it, I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about you”, Slaine quips, and Inaho just shrugs before turning to the unit next to his.  
“That one’s yours, still programmed on Versian standard and running on my name, too, but otherwise an average KG-7 Areion equipped with standard weaponry and munition just as during our training session.”  
“What’s with the white markings? They weren’t there before”, Slaine asks, pointing at the stripes on the Kataphrakt’s arms.  
“It’s so I can easily single you out on the battlegrounds, even though in the best case, you’ll just stay close to me the entire time”, Inaho explains casually, and then adds: “I considered asking Calm to use orange markings, but that would have been petty, wouldn’t it? Plus, I thought it’s a callback to your seagull days, now that that one’s regrettably been scrapped.”

“Seagull?”  
Slaine feels his brow crease with confusion. He had been called a lot of animal names in the past, but he could not remember that particular one.  
“Tharsis looked like one.”  
“... you’re actually really bad at giving nicknames, has anyone ever told you that?”  
Inaho seems to consider his question for a bit in earnest.  
“You’re the fifth to tell me, as far as I recall.”  
When Slaine just silently shakes his head at that sad confession, Inaho continues talking business.

“You’ll have the identification Mustang 00, make sure-”  
“No way!”  
They both turn around to see Inko approach them, in full battle gear, and looking positively militant.  
“With you going ahead and making yourself leader, that old identification should go to your tried and tested wingman next, right? No offence to you, Lieutenant”, she adds, apologetic.  
“None taken”, Slaine replies with a shrug, not quite sure why he should fight with this friendly girl for a title he did not care for at all, while Inaho just blinks as if he had trouble following, and Slaine sighs inwardly. That person truly was dense sometimes.

“I thought you’d just prefer to stick to your old number for convenience’s sake, that’s why-”  
“I honestly don’t care about the number”, Slaine interrupts him, giving Inko a small smile. “We can switch if you want.”  
“No-one cares about the names”, Rayet claims, showing up behind Inko and patting her friend on the head, “you can assign me Shetland Pony 55 for all I care.”  
“There already is a Shetland Platoon though, it’s currently stationed in Prague”, Inaho argues, and Rayet looks as if she had to fight the urge to hit him. Slaine feels himself relate.

“But since Tyr here doesn’t mind, we’ll settle on this, then”, Inaho summarises, pointing out the few people in their small circle, “Inko, Mustang 00, Tyr, Mustang 11, Rayet, Mustang 22. Any more questions?”  
“None, General”, Slaine taunts.  
“Good luck to all of us, then”, Inaho finishes his sudden leadership speech. “Mustang Platoon, get ready to dispatch.”

 

Slaine steps back and towards the hoisting rope of his assigned Kataphrakt. Now that the banter between Inaho and his friends is over, he is feeling the thrill of the oncoming battle wash over him with sudden force, leaving his whole body flooded with adrenaline and anticipation. When he turns his head to check on the person next to him, he thinks that the way Inaho looks, it is the same for him, too, his features speaking of highest concentration.

Settling into the cockpit and starting up the system, Slaine immediately notices a notification on the communication screen, and approves the request with a frown.  
_“This is a private communication channel”_ , he hears Inaho’s voice as clear and calm as if the other was still standing next to him, _“I suggest we keep using it additionally to the general one.”  
_ “Are you still afraid I’m going to mess up that badly?”, Slaine complains while going through the other steps of getting his unit ready just as Inaho had instructed. He can feel the Deucalion herself had already begun ascending, and he follows the pogress of her route northwards as indicated on one of the screens from the corner of his eyes.

_“Consider it a precaution, for the both of us”_ , Inaho replies, and Slaine huffs. Radio silence follows, only filled by the constant background noise of static, until Inaho speaks up again. _“I don’t expect you to-”  
_ He is cut off short by a sudden incoming message from the bridge, and Slaine feels himself tense up instantly.

_“We’ve got confirmed movement from the Landing Castle. Enemy approaching at rapid speed. Every unit, prepare for drop in t-minus three.”_

“Whatever you wanted to tell me, remember it for later”, Slaine says, focussing on the controls and stepping forward into the hall towards the hatch slowly opening to give a view of a pale morning sky and reddish rocky ground below. “If we both come back alive, that is.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> Double-length chapter next time _(:3 」∠)


	12. Vs/050 : Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Roger”, Inaho hears in cacophony again, followed by a single: “Nao, take care!”_   
>  _“I’ll trust you to cover us, Yuki”, he replies, before turning back towards the units closest to him. “Let’s move, Inko, Rayet.”_   
>  _Slaine falls into pace without even a word necessary._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which the battle begins._

It takes a few precious minutes until the dust stirred up by the heavy machines making contact with the ground has settled, and Inaho surveys the territory again up close. They had not been able to advance as far north as he had hoped, because apparently, the Count really had been awaiting them and not hesitated making his move. The plateau stretching in front of them now offers little to no defilade apart from a few minor ridges and rock formations scattered far in between, and against the slowly brightening sky in the far distance, he can already make out the telltale trail of dust signifying the enemy approaching. There would not be a lot of time left before contact, he decides.

 _“Brumby Leader here, we’re ready”,_ he hears Stanton’s voice through the communication link, quickly followed by Martinez.  
_“Connemara Leader, likewise.”_  
_“This is Clydesdale Leader, ready to go. What’s the plan, Kaizuka Junior?”_  
Inaho ignores the nickname, calculating the possible formations.

“Mustang Leader to all units, we’ll be dealing with a non-classified Kataphrakt, so everyone, approach with caution and keep your distance for the time being. Spread out as far as possible, at best try to surround him and cut off his route of retreat”, he instructs.  
_“Roger that”,_ Stanton replies the same moment that Martinez asks: “ _What about the Deucalion?”  
“She’ll remain as back-up, so don’t mind her line of fire for the time being. Trust Captain Magbaredge to make sure the path is clear in time before she fires, she doesn’t kill her own”,_ Marito chimes in, and Inaho feels himself smile.

“Captain Marito, Lieutenant Stanton, you try to advance from here. Warrant Officer, take your platoon and try to approach from nine o’ clock, I’ll move towards the right. For now, everyone engage at your own discretion.”  
_“Roger”,_ Inaho hears in cacophony again, followed by a single: _“Nao, take care!”_  
“I’ll trust you to cover us, Yuki”, he replies, before turning back towards the units closest to him. “Let’s move, Inko, Rayet.”  
Slaine falls into pace without even a word necessary.

They have not even made it another two hundred metres when the advancing machine on the horizon already gains discernible shapes, a sturdy frame with intimidating armour plates on both sides of the arms, and although from the way it moves, Inaho rates the agility not as top notch as that of other Kataphraktoi he had encountered so far, the speed is surpassing that of Earth’s models.

 _“Here he comes”,_ Inko states, more a reminder for them all to be mentally prepared than a necessary observation, and Inaho stops next to the small rock formation he had had his eye on from the start.  
“We’ll wait here”, he instructs, drawing the standard assault rifle from the compartment.

 _“He’s in firing range already”_ , Slaine speaks up on the shared channel, and Inaho notices he sounds thoughtful.  
_“We’d never hit him from this distance when he’s moving at this speed”,_ Rayet disagrees, and before Inaho has the chance to reply, Slaine does.  
_“I’m not talking about us, I’m talking about him.”  
“What do you me-”_

 

Even through the thick metal shielding them from the outside world, they all hear the gun fire from the opposite side.  
_“Connemara Leader here, we’re engaging”,_ they hear Martinez announce, and Slaine makes an irritated sound.  
_“Waste of ammunition.”  
“Enemy Kataphrakt has not opened fire yet”,_ Rayet observes, _“estimated distance from us another three hundred metres. Two hundred fifty. Two-”_

Inaho spots the telltale sparks of the bullets finally hitting their target of the metal shielding the same second the Martian Kataphrakt turns every so slightly and part of the rock formation to his right shoulder is shattered.  
_“Enemy opened fire!”_ Inko yells, retreating a step and returning the favour.  
_“All units, fire!”,_ Inaho hears Stanton shout over the sudden commotion as the Martian Kataphakt stops dead centre in between the lines of fire of Martinez’ and his own squad.  
“What is he doing”, he mutters the same moment a hail of bullets is send their way.

 _“I don’t care what he’s doing, get moving!”_ Rayet pulls swiftly back from the rocks towards the left while still keeping up firing, and Inaho follows suit, watching on the screen as their previous temporary shielding is reduced to rubble in a matter of seconds.  
_“Our rounds are hitting, but no visible damage yet”_ , Martinez relays, _“Switching to armour piercing rounds ne-”  
_ An ugly sound of metal shattering stops his words short, followed by the dreadful white noise of empty static.

 _“This is Connemara 22, Connemara Leader has been hit, we’ll keep on as instru-”  
_ Another explosion has Inaho stop retreating to turn his focus on the events around him that had abruptly turned into pure chaos. The Martian Kataphrakt had stopped all attempts at advancing, instead only moving his arms with the armour plates to shield itself from the bullets, while simultaneously returning fire from what appeared to be weapons somehow installed inside the very same contraptions.

 _“This is Brumby Leader, we’ll move to take Connemara’s spot, keep providing us with fire suppression, Captain Marito.”  
_ Stanton manages to maintain his composure despite having lost his Officer, and Inaho turns toward the opposite side of the plateau, where he can see the wrecks of Martinez’ platoon. There is no time to check for possible remaining vital signs of the pilots as the Martian Kataphrakt shifts its stance ever so slightly between Inaho’s group and the oncoming reinforcements, and he has to evade yet a another shot.

 

 _“This is the Deucalion, radar shows aircrafts approaching at low altitude from both south-west and north.”_  
“They circled around to attack the Deucalion as well?” Marito shouts, and Inaho grits his teeth. He had anticipated the Count to be prepared, but this exceeded his expectations.  
_“He’s not earnestly trying to take the Deucalion out with just Sky Carriers.”_  
Slaine brings his unit to a halt next to Inaho’s, reloading and calmly making his point as if they were not under heavy flak.  
_“He wants to prevent it from providing back-up for now.”_

“Captain, take out those approaching the ship and prepare to interfere here, we might need you”, Inaho instructs the same moment that the first formation of air crafts approaches their location.  
_“All units, scatter!”_  
Inaho does not need the instruction, already moving to dodge the bullets sending bits of ground to his feet flying, Slaine following along with him easily.  
“I remember you saying Sky Carriers aren’t heavily armed and suited for combat”, Inaho says, switching to the private channel, and Slaine makes a sound that is somewhere between a laugh and a derisive huff of breath.  
_“Every Count is free to customise their weapons to their heart’s content. But due to their structure alone, you can’t arm Sky Carriers much heavier than the default, if that eases your mind.”_

Inaho hisses as another bullet misses his Kataphrakt just barely. No matter how much all three platoons fire, the Martian unit seems to sustain close to no damage, and contrary to its air support it also shows no signs whatsoever of running out of ammunition any time soon. The firing speed, too, is above what Inaho had experienced in any other battle before, as if there was no process of reloading or ignition involved at all.

 _“What the hell is with this thing’s shooting skills!”_ Inko’s distressed voice rings in his ears, immediately followed by Rayet’s warning: _“Sky Carrier squadron approaching from two o’clock, watch out!”  
“Dodge and aim at the turbines once they’ve passed over you”_ , Slaine interjects before Inaho can suggest the same method, and as if to drive his point home, he shoots down one of the aircrafts the next second, hardly doing more than grazing one of the wings, yet, it falls from the sky like a wounded bird at a flat angle, crashing somewhere behind the wrecks of Martinez’ squad with a dull sound almost drowned out by the constant gunfire.

 _“Thanks, Lieutenant.”_  
Slaine does not reply to Inko’s words of gratitude, halting in his movements, almost.  
_“It’s kind of odd, being on the other side and not on the receiving end”,_ Inaho hears him muse on the private channel, and he sounds almost amused.  
_“They’re circling back”,_ Rayet observes, reloading.  
_“G-got it!”_ , Inko shouts, _“Inaho, we’ll take care of them, you go and do something about that Kataphrakt!”_

 

 _Do something about it,_ Inaho thinks grimly, if only it was that easy. It is hard to admit, but during the last year of the war, he had grown increasingly reliant on the Analytical Engine for his strategies, and even though he is aware that he is just as capable without it, in this very moment, he does not even know where to begin.  
“Lieutenant, you’re coming with me”, he instructs Slaine, not waiting for a response but moving forward, until he reaches a small ridge to the right he hopes will provide at least some protection against the seemingly never-ending rain of bullets.  
“Cover for me, I’ll obsverve-”

The impact to the hollow of his Kataphrakt’s knees comes so sudden and forceful that he cannot stop it from toppling over, barely managing to break the fall using the stabilisers before tumbling down the slope behind the ridge entirely. He has not quite realised what had happened when he feels the air current caused by a heavy projectile brush over his cockpit so closely it leaves the entire machine trembling.

 _“On your left, watch out!“_ he hears Slaine’s voice over the intercom, and suddenly his entire Kataphrakt is first pushed and then pulled forwards, down the slope, Slaine’s Areion swiftly navigating around the rocky formations and dodging the bullets following them.

“Thank you.“  
Inaho manages to regain control before they reach their new ground level, turning around to return fire at the Sky Carrier passing over them, entirely relying on Slaine to move them forward, back towards the side before they become trapped in the line of fire of the other platoons alongside the Martian Kataphrakt.  
_“Don’t thank me before we make it out of here in one piece“,_ Slaine argues, voice sharp and clear with concentration. _“How do you even pilot with these monitors, I can barely see what’s going on around me.”  
_ “Not all of us have been spoiled with the luxury of Aldnoah powered 360-degree screens”, Inaho quips.

 _“In any case, what’s with that Kataphrakt’s firing speed?”_  
“I was hoping you had any ideas”, Inaho replies, discarding an empty clip and reloading. “The structure of the arm shields resembles Tharsis’ a bit, doesn’t it?”  
_“Barely. And Tharsis had no shielding abilities, you should know that. Even with predictions, I still had to dodge bullets manually. This one doesn’t even attempt to, putting itself into the open like that, it’s almost as-”_  
“-if wants us to aim fire at it, agreed”, Inaho finishes the sentence, bringing his Kataphrakt to a stop on top of the ridge again, looking back.

He sees the other two platoons advance from the other side, the Martian Kataphrakt now slightly below of where the two are standing. It still makes no step forward, the only parts moving his arms as it seemingly completely disregards the projectiles shot at it and returns fire in a constant rhythm.  
If only I could still trace the trajectory of every individual bullet, Inaho catches himself think, starring at the monitors that in their limited resolution and processing speed cannot show him what he really wishes to find out.

 _“If he really wants us to focus attention on him, we should do the opposite and first take out the air support”,_ Slaine disrupts his thoughts, slowly advancing towards the edge, scanning the sky above, _“I don’t know what’s going on with Kataphrakt’s ammunition and firing speed, but I can say for sure a Landing Castle’s number of aircrafts is limited.”  
_ Inaho does not make the extra effort to agree, switching to the open channel instead.

“Mustang Leader to all units, focus attacks on the air support first, don’t waste your-”  
A heavy round shatters the ground just below where they are standing, and Inaho turns a second to late as the entire ridge begins to crumble and slide, Slaine’s Areion along with it.  
“Slaine! Try to-”

Another round hits, and Inaho hears the sharp sound of the communication link discontinuing. For a second, Inaho is too dumbstruck to move, before with sudden urgency, he skirts past the edge on the other side, seeing the wreck with the conspicuous white stripes half buried beneath the rubble in close distance to the Martian Kataphrakt and the remains of Martinez’ platoon, way out of reach for him as long as the Martian Kataphrakt keeps up firing. Inaho holds back a curse, retreating again as the fire turns his way.

 

 _It’s not your life you’re gambling here so much as his,_ Klancain’s voice echoes in his mind as Inaho continues his zig zag course of dodging, leading him further away from the other units. It is only now that he realises he had never even really considered the possibility of Slaine dying on the battlefield, just as he had never expected the Count would still put up such a fight and formidable counter-attack. He had responsibility for everyone of the pilots as the one who had decided on the strategy, and he had responsibly for the man he had dragged out of a perfectly secure prison to face death once more, and Inaho clenches his hands around the controls tighter, focussing his thoughts again.

It is no use despairing, yet, because all he has to do now is find a weak spot in the enemy’s defence, and then he would be free to try and retrieve whoever he still could, and atone for the deaths of those who he could not.

 _“This is Brumby Leader, we’re three units down and running out of ammunition, requesting immediate air support by the Deucalion!”_  
Stanton’s voice is stressed and Inaho’s thoughts spin.  
The rounds hit but do almost no damage, but it is not a barrier of the type Nilokeras or Dioscuria employed, Inaho notes, his mind feverishly trying to come up with an explanation for what is clearly happening in front of him. The bullets do not seem to disintegrate, and nothing else in the Kataphrakt’s vicinity does, either. It rather seems as if they are absorbed in some form.

The realisation hits him with a sudden surge of adrenaline, and he focuses on the communication link with full attention.  
“Captain Magbaredge, whatever you do, _do not fi_ -”

The bright flash of the ship’s main cannons shows up on the monitor before he has finished his call, and as if things had suddenly slowed down, Inaho sees the Martian Kataphrakt calmly meet the oncoming projectile with only one of its arms positioned to shield it from the impact, the other at an odd angle from its main body. Almost as if is turned towards him, Inaho notes with what borders on cognitive dissonance, the same moment that the panicked voice of his sister gets through him amidst the heavy noise of the projectile hitting its mark, warping around the steel and deforming in front of his eyes as if Inhao was looking at stills of a motion picture.  
_“Everyone, fall ba-”_

 

The ground around him all but explodes as the Martian Kataphrakt returns fire instantly, and he does not need the monitors flashing warning signs in angry red to know he had been hit, the impact throwing the entire frame off balance, and Inaho is thrown forward, his head connecting with his knee so hard he feels the blood drip over his face from his forehead and nose, the inflating airbag doing nothing to protect him.

His eye tears up with pain, blurring the writing on the screen that is so tauntingly calm and technical given the fact that he is stranded in between the Kataphrakt and its route back to the Landing Castle, in direct line of enemy fire, with a malfunctioning unit. _  
Stabiliser output at 10%. Left leg not responding. Assess damage manually._

 _“All units, immediate retreat to the Deucalion!”,_ he hears Marito shout, the static increased and cutting the syllables into mangled pieces. One hand pressed to his forehead to stop the bleeding, Inaho reaches over to the main panel to initiate bailout. No matter what state his body might be in, he figures his chances of escape are still better on foot now than they are in an immobile unit.  
_“Nao, are you alright?! Where are you, I can’t see--”  
_ “I’m alive”, he grits out in honesty, hands slick with blood already on the lever. “I’ll have to leave Sleipnir behind, I’ll try to run and hide out, come pick me-”

 _“Inaho, enemy aircraft heading in your direction! Get out of there!!”_  
Rayet’s shout has Inaho snap his attention back to the main monitor the moment he can already feel the plane pass overhead at alarmingly low altitude, and a new impact shakes the damaged frame, the screens flickering as if in protest, but for a split second, nothing else happens.  
That was no bullet, Inaho realises with mild surprise, the instant a sudden jolt throws him back into his seat, his grip on the escape hatch opening slipping.

 

Inaho tries to brace himself against the cockpit walls as the entire unit shakes, dragging over the uneven ground and hitting rocks and debris. Switching to the side monitor, he can see the cable lodged into Sleipnir just below the right shoulder joint.  
Someone is hauling him out of the combat zone.

 _“Inaho! I’ll-”  
_ “Stand down! Keep retreating and _do not shoot!”_ Inaho cuts off Inko harshly, voice shaking with the vibration of metal around him, the wound on his forehead throbbing.

 _“What the hell is going-”_  
“It’s alright, trust me and go!”  
From the corner of his eye Inaho spots a new notification blinking on screen, almost overshadowed by all the useless flashing warning signals informing him of his unit’s critical condition.  
_Contact Link Established. Open Channel?_

Inaho’s fingers slip on the switches twice, his teeth clacking with a particularly strong bump. When he succeeds, the sudden increased static makes him flinch.  
_“Another sixteen hundred metres and we’re in the Deucalion’s wind-shadow. Hold yourself together until then, if you can.”_  
“Bat”, is all Inaho manages to say, feeling a trickle of blood pool at the corner of his mouth as he smiles at the familiar voice.  
_“Don’t worry. I won’t disconnect the cable this time.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _v. wiretapped_
> 
> _“Hey Nina, have you heard?”_
> 
> _“Hmm?”_
> 
> _“Calm told me Inaho and his Lieutenant have a private line they use! I wonder what they are talking about there that we can’t hear?” Inko pouts, still feeling threatened by the competition._
> 
> _Nina freezes for a second, and then winks conspiratorially at Inko._
> 
> _“Ha! I know, I’ve already broken into that one”, Nina says in hushed tones. “It’s just what I had suspected.”_
> 
> _Inko’s eyes open wide and she leans in closer._
> 
> _“They are discussing girls. In dirty detail”, Nina whispers gravely, and then adds as an afterthought, “Inaho came up with a pretty comprehensive assessment system, actually, I’m impressed!”_
> 
> _“No way!” Inko cries, shakes her head. “How dare they!”_
> 
> _Nina watches her stomp off angrily, and smiles to herself._
> 
> _She could keep Inaho’s important secrets, too._


	13. Vs/051 : Result

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Technically speaking,_ I won't disconnect _had been a lie, Slaine muses as he enters the command to unhinge the cable from the Sky Carrier, the aircraft immediately ascending once it is rid off the dead weight he had been dragging along. For a second, the image of how it would be to just keep going flashes behind his mind’s eye, to just accelerate and continue until the machine’s engines give out, but he knows it is nothing but an illusion._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a charade ends._

Technically speaking,  _I won't disconnect_ had been a lie, Slaine muses as he enters the command to unhinge the cable from the Sky Carrier, the aircraft immediately ascending once it is rid off the dead weight he had been dragging along. For a second, the image of how it would be to just keep going flashes behind his mind’s eye, to just accelerate and continue until the machine’s engines give out, but he knows it is nothing but an illusion. Half of the screens around him are flickering on and off, and even in a Sky Carrier in ship-shape, he doubts he could outrun the Deucalion, let alone do so in the middle of nowhere with no place to turn to and hide out at.

It had been a short spreading of his wings, and more than he had ever expected to experience ever again, and nothing worth getting himself killed for if he tried to escape. So instead, he turns the plane around sharply, initiating the landing manoeuvre. Even with the wonky transmission, he can see the Count is retreating towards the Landing Castle as well, Kataphrakt moving along as if it had not just been under heavy fire. The plateau is riddled with scrap metal, bullet casings and crashed Kataphraktoi and Sky Carrier alike, smoke rising up from some of them against the pale blue morning sky.

A close call, Slaine thinks, opening the cockpit and carefully climbing out onto the aircraft’s wing. His whole body hurts from the impact of falling down the slope, but the security belts and the airbag collar had prevented the worst. Outdated Terran tech has its merits after all, he thinks, even if the communication gear had not survived the crash. Casting a quick glance onto the reflecting surface of the glass hull of the cockpit, Slaine notices with relief that at least the more important item around his neck had, however.

The Deucalion descends with deafening noise, and Slaine presses both hands to his ears, watching as the ship lands. He feels the vibrations of the Kataphraktoi approaching him more than he hears it, and when he turns to look, it is four of them closing in as the rest advances towards the ship. Slaine is not even remotely surprised he finds himself at gunpoint of three of them. With ammunition of their scale, there would not even be dust left to speak of his existence, and with a grimace of pain he pulls back his hands from his ears, folding them on the back of his head instead, while lowering himself on his knees on the slippery metal surface.

From the corner of his eyes he sees the remaining pilot practically jump from their unit and rush towards whatever little is still left of Inaho’s orange frame, but his attention is diverted as one of the other units switches to speakers.  
_“What the hell is going on here? Explain yourself - there’s no way someone could do that with out prior training. Are you former Vers military, Lieutenant?”  
_ He recognises the male Captain’s voice, and dares slowly removing one hand to point at the lack of communication gear around his neck.  
_“Looks like his gear’s broken,”_ Slaine recognises Rayet say, _“we should just head ba-”_

 _“That’s a Vers aircraft, how were you able to- no, rather, who the hell are you?!”  
_ Inko’s Kataphrakt takes a step closer, and Slaine cannot help but fix his eyes on where the robotic fingers lie on the trigger of the rifle already.  
_“He can’t reply, Inko, this is-”_  
_“Don’t tell me you don’t remember the last time-”_

 _“Both of you, stop it.”  
_ The voice coming over the speakers now has Slaine turn his head back towards the left, and he sees Inaho’s sister practically dragging her brother out of the wreck, his arm over her shoulder, and as calm as her voice sounded, as burning is her expression when their eyes meet.  
_“Kaizuka, he-”  
“I know,”_ she interrupts her Captain, and Slaine lowers his head to no longer having to look at her, “ _I know, but right now, it doesn’t matter. Take my brother and get him to the medical bay right now, please, Captain!”_

 _“I’m alright, don’t just-”  
_ Inaho’s voice channelled over his sister's Kataphrakt is weak, and when he lifts his head, Slaine notices the blood.  
_“You’re not,”_ his sister says sternly, _“I’ll take care of this matter, you trust me that much at least, don’t you?”  
“What matter?”_ Inko sounds suspicious. _“What didn’t you tell us this time, Inaho?”_  
_“Yuki, don’t tell-”_

Inaho’s attempted protest ends in a pained groan, and when Slaine looks directly at the woman once more, in a split second he realises with an icy feeling of dread that she knows.  
_“This man,”_ she begins calmly, and Slaine prepares for the shots that would most definitely follow her announcement, “ _is Slaine Troyard of the Orbital Knights.”  
_ It would be a painless, instant death, at least, Slaine thinks, closing his eyes, awaiting the sound of ignition. What follows, however, is deafening silence, even the commotion in direction of the ship seeming to stop for just a second of coincidence.

 _“Slaine Tro-_ that _Slaine Troyard?!”_ The incredulousness in Inko’s voice is overwhelming and genuine. _“But he’s dead! He died at the end of the war! Inaho told-”  
_ She stops the second she realises her mistake.  
_“You lied,”_ she continues, so quiet that even through the speakers it is barely audible.  
_“He’s a valuable asset, it was a rational decision to keep making use of him.”_  
Inaho is barely holding up, and he sounds weary.

 _“You were the one who said that the enemy of our enemy is not our friend,”_ Rayet states, and Slaine cannot decipher her tone.  
_“He’s not, but at least for this mission he was useful, so I-”  
“So you just categorise in who’s useful to you and who’s not? Does that go for us as well? That’s cold, Inaho.”  
_ There is such obvious hurt in Inko’s voice now that Slaine wonders how Inaho maintains his composure.  
_“That’s not true,”_ Inaho argues, sounding desperate, and tries to take a step towards her but almost buckles, only held back from falling due to Yuki gripping him tighter.

 _“History is written by the winners, and that’s how it’s decided who heroically won a battle and who committed bloody carnage. It’s short-sighted, and I can fully admire an enemy’s brilliant abilities in combat and make use of them to save my own life.”  
“Maybe the bullet and Analytical Engine did permanently damage your brain after all,“ _ Rayet huffs.

 _“All of this has time until later, we need to get him to the doctor first”,_ Yuki interrupts with growing impatience, _“Marito, please!”  
“It’s Kaizuka Junior, I don’t even know why I’m still surprised at anything at this point,” _ Slaine hears the Captain sigh, the Areion unit extending its hand to carefully scoop up Inaho from Yuki’s side. _“I guess he’ll have some explaining to do alright. You take care of this, Kaizuka.”_  
He straightens up again and makes a move for the ship awaiting the retrieval of all soldiers still alive.

 _“How are_ you _of all people okay with this, Yuki?! He’s your brother, and this is the person who-”  
“Don’t you think I know?” _ Kaizuka’s sister shuts Inko down curtly, and Slaine can see the way her fists clench at her sides. His arms are slowly getting numb and the metal of the wings begins to dig into his knees, and all he wants is for this to be over once and for all, for them to stop discussing the absurdity of his survival in favour of putting a clear end to all of this. No matter how rational Inaho had argued, Slaine agrees with Inko - there are things that cannot be forgiven and overlooked, and Inaho had asked too much from his friends, from his family.

 _“He was our archenemy,”_ Rayet chimes in again, but lowers the rifle, and she sounds oddly pensive.  
_“They all were, those who’re now our allies. Mazuurek almost killed my platoon back in Yemen, now he regularly sends us postcards from around the world during his diplomatic travels. That, too, is part of the peace Asseylum created.”  
_ Yuki wipes her hand across her face once, and Slaine is not sure if it is to remove non-existent tears or Inaho’s blood, but when she focusses her attention back on him, it is with iron decisiveness.

 _“Inko, Rayet, you two return to the ship. No word to anybody about this, do you understand? We’ll talk later. As for that guy, I’ll take care of him.”_  
_“You can’t be serious, Yuki, he-”_  
_“This is an order, Inko.”_  
Slaine can practically picture Inko flinch at the sudden change of tone, but Yuki does not apologise, instead slowly taking steps towards the Sky Carrier, drawing her handgun from the thigh holster.

 _“Come on, let’s go. It’s no use getting into a fight now.”_  
Rayet’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, and she gives her friend’s unit a small encouraging push. Inko seems to hesitate one second more, and then turns without another word. Slaine and Yuki watch the duo depart, and then, he is suddenly alone with Kaizuka Inaho’s sister.

 


	14. Vs/052 : Remit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I knew you survived,” she corrects him flatly, now closer to him than ever before, but in safe distance out of arm’s reach, weapon pointed at his chest. Slaine notices her hands do not shake even a little. “I’ve been driving my brother to that prison of yours for the first few weeks before he got clearance to drive again, after all.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a motivation is admitted to._

“You knew,” he says, quietly, more observation than question, slowly dropping his arms from his head to grip onto the edge of the wings, lowering himself as close to the ground as he can before letting go and falling. His body protests at the harsh landing, but he makes sure his movements are slow and deliberate as he straightens his back again.  
“I knew you survived,” she corrects him flatly, now closer to him than ever before, but in safe distance out of arm’s reach, weapon pointed at his chest. Slaine notices her hands do not shake even a little. “I’ve been driving my brother to that prison of yours for the first few weeks before he got clearance to drive again, after all.”

“He told you and you agreed to it?”  
Slaine feels his eyes widen, but she only gives a jerk of her head into the direction of the ship, and he turns obediently and begins to walk.  
“I didn’t approve of it, of course, but he’s stubborn like that,” he hears her answer from behind him, tone sullen, but he does not dare look back.  
“As to you being here, I only suspected,” she continues, sounding vaguely regretful. “I knew your eyes looked somehow familiar, but I’d never have thought Nao would actually be crazy enough to pull something like this.”  
_They simply don’t expect you to show up again in the open like this_ , Inaho’s voice echoes in his mind. Apparently, that even extended to his sister who had known him to be alive.

Minutes pass, and neither of them talks, Slaine keeping his eyes fixed on the reddish soil beneath his feet, the heat of the day slowly creeping up on them. Suddenly, he feels an iron grip on his arm, bending it behind his back ever so slightly, and when he turns his head, he sees Yuki has caught up to his side, her weapon back in the holster.  
“I can’t have this whole incident disrupt the order on the ship,” she explains in a low voice, not looking at him but facing forward, jaw set in determination. “It’s my responsibility as Nao’s sister, so we’ll handle this quietly until we’ve decided what to do with you. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Her fingers dig trough even the thick uniform painfully hard, and Slaine has no doubt what it is that she would like to do with him. He nods in understanding, and they walk up the ramp to the ship next to each other, probably looking as if he needed to have Yuki support his weight in some fashion.  
“Lieutenant Kaizuka, is everything alright?” one of the soldiers calls out, and Yuki gives him a dazzling smile.  
“Oh, I’m fine, though I fear my unit’s stranded out there, maybe the retrieval squad can still fix it? I’ll just take my little brother’s Lieutenant to his room, he’s a bit out of it. Concussion, I guess.”

Just like that, she clears their path, making a sharp turn on one of the hallways once they are out of sight, down a set of stairs Slaine had not been to before with Inaho, and when they reach the door at the bottom floor, he realises why.  
“You’ll stay here, I’ll go check on my brother,” Yuki orders, letting go of his arm at last, and Slaine complies, stepping into the first cell to his right. It is a windowless, metal cage more than anything, clearly not meant to hold people for long, though there is a cot with a blanket at least. Just as the entire ship, it looks new and hardly used. Maybe the Deucalion and her crew just are not the kind to take prisoners, Slaine thinks. When he turns back, he notices Yuki is looking directly at him.  
“I won’t forget what you did to Nao back in Novostalsk.”  
“I understand.”

There is a few seconds of silence, and then she crosses the threshold of the open cell door.  
“I won’t, however, forget what you did for him today, either.”  
Slaine blinks at the unexpected announcement and the way Inaho’s sister looks at him now, eyebrows drawn together in an unhappy frown, and arms folded over her chest, her fingers visibly digging into her upper arms on both sides, and somehow she appears more like a very disappointed teacher than the person he thinks probably has wished him dead more than anyone else on this ship. He does not know what to say in reply, whether to say anything at all, because no matter what his mind comes up with, all sounds wrong, superficial, self-righteous or in the worst case provocative.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still very much want to punch you in the face,” Yuki continues, a stubborn, almost petulant tone to her voice, and takes a step closer towards him.  
“I understand,” Slaine repeats quietly, squaring his shoulders. “Please go ahead, then.”  
She seems to freeze in her spot, looking bewildered and doubting, and it occurs to Slaine that she probably fears it is a trap. He shifts into the Vers parade position, feet apart hip-wide, hands clasped behind his back, and closes his eyes, concentrating on his breathing to even out, and nods once to reaffirm his offer.  
“Go ahead.”

It is an odd feeling of macabre nostalgia, he thinks, waiting for corporal punishment like this, given that the past two years, first no-one had dared lay hands on him, and then no-one had bothered because his life already was over, anyway. He briefly wonders if her fighting style would mirror that of her brother, precise and calculated, or if she would lash out in anger and unrestrained fury as the seconds pass between them, stretching into what seems to be an eternity.  
Then, he hears the sound of fabric rustling, the unmistakable soft hiss of air accompanying a quick movement.

When her hand connects, it is with barely more force than a pat, coming to rest against the side of his neck, fingers brushing through the hair at the back of his nape that is longer than it must look to her almost gently.  
“How can I punch someone who looks so miserable,” he can hear her voice, soft and strained, and when he opens his eyes in complete astonishment, her expression is pained, but there is something like a small smile on her lips, sad and honest.

“I,” he starts, voice thick and not sure what he even wants to say. _I’m not miserable, I’m sorry but I don’t know what to do, I wish things would have been different_ , somehow nothing appears to be right.  
“Nao says he trusts you.”  
Yuki does not wait for him to figure out his thoughts, her hand dropping slightly to rest on his left shoulder.  
“I don’t know why he does, and I don’t understand how he can be okay with all of this, but he asked me to do the same.”  
Her fingers squeeze slightly, and Slaine blinks, trying to get a hold of the sudden feeling of drowning in the kindness, sadness, and regret that are so clearly mirrored in the woman’s eyes.

“For his sake, I’ll talk to the others again. We’ll finish this mission, and you’ll be with us, if that’s what Nao truly wants.”  
“Thank you,” Slaine manages to say, too quiet in the empty room, and bows almost automatically. Yuki lets go of him then, stepping back towards the cell door.  
“Don’t do that,” she replies, shutting it behind her, but he notes she does not lock it. “I’m not doing it for you and I still think you’re a jerk.”

Slaine thinks he hears the faintest trace of humour in her voice, and he lifts his head to see her walk towards the stairs. Just before she disappears from view, she gives a two-fingered salute without turning back.

 

There is no clock anywhere in the cell block, and Slaine is about to quit trying to count the approximate minutes somewhere in the forties when there are steps approaching again, and Inaho descends the stairs. A bandage compress is taped to his forehead just above his eyepatch, and he looks slightly groggy, still, his uniform jacket thrown over his shoulders above his Kat suit like a parody of old oil paintings of heroic commanders.  
“How’s your head?” Slaine asks, not getting up from his cot.  
Inaho rubs his neck, wincing at what Slaine suspects to be a minor concussion due to whiplash.  
“I’m fine,” he then blatantly lies, and obviously taking note of Slaine’s disbelieving facial expression adds: “I’ve lived through worse.”

There is nothing to reply to that, and Slaine just watches as Inaho reaches to open the door. If he is surprised to find it unlocked, he does not show it.  
“What about you?” Inaho asks, stepping inside and looking him over. Slaine shrugs.  
“I’m fine, too.”  
Inaho hums pensively, and then lets himself drop on the cot to Slaine’s feet without a word of warning.

“Well, this didn’t go as planned,” he summarises, sounding mildly bewildered, and Slaine considers kicking him off for the understatement of the century.  
“So what now? I assume you’ll just leave me here until the mission is over and you drop me off at the prison on your way back.”  
Inaho turns to look at him, somehow managing to appear offended even while looking as if he could collapse and fall asleep at this very moment.  
“I was right about one thing,” he then insists, “and that is that you were valuable to the mission. Without you, I’d have been in trouble.”  
It is not a thank you, but Slaine knows that it is meant to be.  
  
“I only paid back a debt, and I’m sure even without me you would have made it out in time; somehow, you always do. And now that you have your first-hand intel, I’m certain you’re already in the process of figuring out that man’s weak spots,” Slaine replies, settling against the wall behind him more comfortably and drawing his knees up to give Inaho more room. “You probably can take him out just fine in the next battle without me.”  
Inaho frowns.  
“No. I asked you to do this, and I’ll see this through together with you.”  
“Why are you so dead-set on this idea?” Slaine asks, incredulous at the other’s stubbornness even when the trust of his friends in him is at risk.

Inaho looks taken aback for an instant, and then turns away from Slaine, focussing on some point on the wall. When he speaks again, he sounds tired.  
“I don’t know how to save someone.”  
Slaine thinks he has simply misheard, but when Inaho makes no attempt at continuing, he manages a completely confused “Pardon?”.

“Saving someone, I don’t know how I should do it. What I do best is destroy threats posed by others, and I try to protect the people I care for that way. I wasn’t even conscious when she asked me to save you. I don’t know what to do.”

It is the first time, Slaine notes, that he has seen Kaizuka Inaho like that. Not even when he had shot him two years ago he had looked like this, not entirely sure of himself, voice low and laced with a fatigue that has nothing to do with physical exertion. He looks older than he is, yet not anymore like the hardened veteran and brilliant strategist that had been responsible for the most bitter defeats the Orbital Knights had faced. Maybe, he looks a little more human.

“You saved my life when you didn’t have to and no-one else would have. You don’t owe me anything anymore.”  
“That’s not what she asked me to do. Asseylum didn’t ask me to just spare you, or make sure you escape with your life. She asked me to save you from the chains of misery that kept you tied down.”  
“Asseylum asked you to do _what?_ ” Slaine bursts out, leaning forward, but Inaho still refuses to turn his face or even just his remaining eye towards him.

“I think what she meant,” he continues, a bit hesitantly, “is stopping you from taking responsibility for all the wrong things. For Vers, for her, for everything but yourself.”  
“I didn’t-,” Slaine begins arguing, but Inaho snaps around this time, and there is a displeased frown on his face.  
“You tried blowing yourself up along with the entire Moon Base. Loyalty to the grave is a virtue, but you didn’t act out of loyalty but out of the foolish notion of wanting to change the entire world by yourself for someone who didn’t want you to do it they way you attempted to. And you burned yourself up in the process.”

The words sting more than any physical blow could, and Slaine sits in stunned silence for a few seconds until he cannot bear the way Inaho looks at him any longer, and burrows his head in his arms propped up on his knees.  
“Did you ask me to come along because of this request?” he asks, his own voice muffled against the thick material of the Kat suit that feels foreign and wrong on his skin, still.  
Inaho does not reply, but the answer is clear.  
And suddenly, Slaine feels laughter rise up inside him, desperate and exhilarated, and it leaves him breathless and with throbbing pain in his sides.

“You’re probably the only one in this solar system who’d consider bringing someone to the frontlines to fight a former ally an act of saving this person, Kaizuka Inaho.”  
“Maybe,” Inaho says, so softly that Slaine can hardly hear him over the fits of quiet laughter still shaking him, “and maybe I made a mistake. I thought that if you are like me, then-”

He stills when they both hear the unmistakable metallic sound of footsteps approaching, and moments later, the short-haired bridge officer Slaine had seen before is standing there, clutching a clipboard, her expression professional and composed. She does not even bat an eye at the open cell door or Inaho sitting next to the prisoner inside who is still wheezing, trying to get his breathing back under control.

“The Captain wants to speak with you, General Kaizuka.”  
Inaho nods, silently, and slowly stands up. The woman turns her attention towards Slaine, then, eyebrows raised just a fraction.  
“With both of you, actually.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> I probably can't even put into words how much I love Kaizuka Yuki. I did, however, try to put into words how much I love [all of you](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/117944049828/apologies-and-thank-you-s). Seriously, thank you for all the support and lovely words, I appreciate it beyond measure _(:3 」∠)


	15. Vs/053 : Reproach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I’m curious, General,” Captain Magbaredge begins, folding her hands on the desktop and somehow managing to look down at the two of them standing on the opposite side of the table even though she is the one sitting. “When exactly did you intend to inform me of this plan of yours?“_   
>  _“If everything had gone according to my calculations, not at all, Captain.“_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which consequences contrast expectations._

“I’m curious, General,” Captain Magbaredge begins, folding her hands on the desktop and somehow managing to look down at the two of them standing on the opposite side of the table even though she is the one sitting. “When exactly did you intend to inform me of this plan of yours?“  
“If everything had gone according to my calculations, not at all, Captain.“  
Slaine forces himself not to stare at Inaho in flat disbelief at this completely inappropriate choice of tone, instead keeping his gaze now fixed on the epaulette of the Captain’s jacket, a safe place in the vague direction of where he probably is expected to look. 

The Captain’s office is as spartan as every other room on the ship he has seen so far, no trace of Vers’ splendour having carried over to the new design. He is half surprised that Vice Captain Mizusaki had simply let him follow her without demanding from Inaho to handcuff him, and from what he can tell, neither her nor the Captain are armed, or even remotely looking as if they feel in any way threatened by his presence.

Mainly, the Captain seems majorly displeased as she clicks her tongue at the response.  
“You know I’m willing to ignore protocol and instructions from the higher-ups if I deem it wiser and necessary, and you know that I trust you a lot, Kaizuka Junior,” she continues, and Slaine can see from the way her hair moves that she is probably shaking her head disapprovingly. “But you also know that there is nothing that will ever make me forgive someone putting my crew in danger without telling me.“ 

“No-one was in danger at any point in time,” Slaine hears Inaho argue, and he is suddenly very grateful that their scuffle earlier had ended without any visible marks, or else he probably could have signed his immediate death sentence at this point. Inaho might have a near-perfect pokerface, but he is not exactly the best of liars.  
“That’s your verdict,” the Captain retaliates, “you’ve never brought it up for me to consider. If word had gotten out, or someone even would have suspected it due to coincidence, what do you think would have happened to him? Or you?” 

It takes a second until the meaning of her words gets through to Slaine, and he throws all his caution over board and looks at her face now. There is a small crease between her brows, but she appears to be unhappy rather than furious, and Slaine tries to process that in fact, the lives she thought to be in danger were not the ones of the other soldiers so much as Inaho’s and his own.  
As if she had felt his eyes move, Magbaredge suddenly turns to look straight at Slaine. 

“I know who you are, and I’m aware of what you’ve done. You may not have started the war, but you still killed a great deal of our soldiers and comrades.“  
“As you did mine,“ Slaine retaliates evenly before he can stop himself, ignoring how Inaho’s head snaps around and Mizusaki actually drops the clipboard on the floor in complete horror. 

Magbaredge regards him from narrowed eyes for a few seconds, each of which seems to drag out infinitesimally, the tension in the room almost visible.  
“Fair enough,” she then admits, and without taking her gaze off Slaine: “Don’t faint on me, Mizusaki-kun, Kaizuka Junior. I’m not going to bite his head off. Not yet, anyway.”  
“I have no intention whatsoever of hurting anyone in your crew“, Slaine continues, straightening his back a little. Not that long ago, he had been of a rank higher than even the Captain’s, and even if he had been stripped of status, freedom and even right of life, he can tell that Magbaredge is someone who would best be argued on equal grounds with. If she knew exactly who he is, there is no point in trying to drop that part of his identity. 

The Captain raises her eyebrows just a little.  
“I would advise you not to. I don’t care who vouched for your survival, and be it the Empress herself, as soon as I only get the faintest impression that you might pose a danger to my ship, I will personally put you down.“  
“Fair enough,” Slaine echoes her words, and this time, she actually looks as if she is about to smile. 

“Patching up an enemy aircraft on the battleground and making an escape with it is an commendable feat, I’ll give you that.”  
“Thank you,” Slaine replies earnestly, and he notes how Inaho next to him visibly relaxes at the civil tone of conversation, previously having watched the exchange between them with what had appeared to be a mixture of awe and worry.

“You, however, do bring nothing but trouble, General,” Magbaredge sighs, turning her attention towards Inaho now. “How are you?”  
“Fine,” Inaho lies through his teeth the same moment that Mizusaki picks up her clipboard again and reads out: “A light concussion, a minor laceration to the forehead that could be taped and required no stitches, bruising from the safety belts to chest and shoulders, and a minor contusion to the left wrist.” 

Slaine tries not to flinch at the last mention, because he is fairly sure that it does not stem from the battle just before.  
“What are you even doing on your feet with a concussion?”  
“General Kaizuka discharged himself, Ma’am. Doctor Yagarai would like to ask if you agree to him accidentally lacing the General’s tea with sedative next time.”  
“I might consider it,” Magbaredge hums, and stands up. 

“Slaine Troyard,” she announces as if giving a roll call, and Slaine barely suppresses a salute on reflex. “I’m given to understand Kaizuka Junior here took full responsibility for you in this entire affair, so I’m going to trust his verdict as to your potential and loyalties. For now, however, I expect you to do the same in return.”  
Slaine blinks.  
“I’m not sure I understand.”  
“This mission is urgent and can’t be postponed. If it comes down to it, I’ll rely on my best strategist knowing what he’s doing,” Magbaredge explains, walking around the desk now and stopping in front of the two of them. 

“I would prefer he stays alive. Make sure this stubborn person gets some rest and recovers while Captain Marito and I assess the damage dealt to us today and survey the combat data. We’ll hold the debriefing and strategy meeting later. No moving on your own, and no more private channels. Stay put until you hear something different.”  
“So,” Slaine starts slowly, not quite convinced he had heard right, “you’re not locking me up?”  
“From what I recall, you were assigned a cabin, I suggest you go back there. Unless of course you prefer the holding cells, in that case, be my guest.”  
When Slaine does not take the obvious bait, she straightens her impeccable posture just a tad bit more.  
“If there’s no further questions, that would be it. Kaizuka, Troyard, dismissed.”  
“Yes, Ma’am,” Slaine finds himself say in unison with Inaho.

They have already made a good part of the way back to their room when Slaine finally asks: “Don’t you, you know, technically outrank her, Kaizuka Inaho?”  
“And aren’t you very positively not even part of the army?”  
“Point taken.”

Slaine does not understand how it had happened, but somehow, the situation of being found out as the former enemy leader incognito on this ship had ended with him being sent to his room like an unruly child by the Captain rather than being summarily court-martialed and shot. Inaho seems to be a centre of almost cosmic disturbance as to how things should go according to any and all common sense, and Slaine is not sure why and when, but it seems he has gotten caught in its orbit as well.

 

 

The time spent in a custom-made prison cut off from all information access truly does wonders to hone patience as to how to deal with being cooped up in a room with absolutely no distraction at hand whatsoever, Slaine muses, stretching his arms. Either the ship’s doctor had spiked Inaho’s drink after all, or the other really had been that exhausted, because upon entering the cabin, he had only wordlessly taken off the suit’s security belts and his boots before more or less dropping face first into the bed and falling fast asleep in a matter of seconds. 

For a while, Slaine had just left him be, before finally taking some pity on him and at least fetching his blanket from the bed above to cover him, seeing how Inaho was lying on top of his own and remembering how sensitive to cold he had seemed on multiple occasions before. Spotting the silver buckle now visible between Inaho’s hair on the back of his head in the process, he had hesitated for a few minutes more, hands awkwardly hovering in the air just centimetres from it. It had been ridiculous, really, given he had seen far worse, seen people wounded, bleeding, and dying, and there had been no reason to fear what basically was nothing but a piece of leather, and he had finally pulled himself together and undone the eyepatch and carefully tugged it from beneath the other’s head.

Then, Slaine had changed out of the pilot suit into the normal uniform and settled on the floor propped against the wall on the opposite side of the small cabin, letting his thoughts idle, and waited. He had been able to tell the ship had ascended again, no doubt making its way back to the base, but with no windows, it provided no real distraction. He had not even tried Inaho’s laptop, because he knew there was no way someone like Inaho would not lock his belongings with complicated passwords, and in this entirely impersonal room, there had been nothing of interest to look at apart from that. 

It is odd, he notes, how only now that there is complete silence he realises how used he had gotten to constant conversation and activity again over just the course of the past few days. Not exactly in the most enjoyable company, because Inaho gets on his nerves more often than not, but still, it is a break from the isolation and loneliness that the death of his comrades and his own fall had brought about.

The thick material of the steel wall drowns out all sound from the outside, and that way, he is completely caught off guard when suddenly after what feels like hours of stillness to him, the door opens without any prior knocking or anything.  
He is half prepared to scramble to his feet should it be Inaho’s sister or the Captain when he recognises it is Rayet, balancing a tray on one hand, carrying a big bottle of water in the other. She throws a quick glance at Inaho who is still sleeping soundly, and then turns back towards Slaine, sitting down on the floor crosslegged in front of him and placing the tray between them.

“I thought I should bring some food over seeing how you’ve been basically put under house arrest,” she explains in a low voice while removing the wrapping film from the tray, completely ignoring the way Slaine stares at her casual demeanour wide-eyed, “that idiot also should have something to eat once he wakes up.”  
She jerks her head vaguely into Inaho’s direction before leaning back, settling her weight on both arms behind her, and meeting Slaine’s baffled expression with a raised eyebrow.  
“What, did the Captain cut out your tongue?”

Slaine shakes his head almost in a daze.  
“Thank you for the food,” he replies automatically, but Rayet only shrugs one shoulder slightly. He reaches out to pick up the fork, but stops halfway, looking back at the girl in front of him.  
“I don’t get it,” he says. 

She just tilts her head slightly to one side.  
“Life in general, or something more specific?”  
“You. The Captain. Kaizuka. All of this.”  
He makes a vague gesture encompassing the room, his uniform, the holographic disguise, the lack of a bullet to his brain, all and nothing, and Rayet regards him in silence for a bit more before answering, voice still quiet and even.

“Inaho probably didn’t tell you, but I was born on Vers. My father was the leader of the mercenaries hired by Sir Trillram to kill the Princess in Shinawara.”  
Slaine freezes, eyes growing wide, but Rayet does not even look remotely as if she is joking or lying.  
“Not only that. I killed her myself, once.”

He can hear Inaho’s voice in his memory as clearly as if the other was still talking to him this second.  
 _I resuscitated her once before, after a choking incident._  
"You---!”  
She does not flinch as he lurches forward and grabs the straps of her top, pulling her towards him in one sharp movement, the both of them still separated by the tray on the floor between their legs, but faces so close that Slaine can see there is no hesitation whatsoever in her eyes.  
“Do you want to kill me for that?“ 

Slaine closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting go of her and dropping his hands to his sides again.  
“Excuse my behaviour just now.”  
Rayet does not reply.  
“If all of this is true, then why are you here, with them?“ he asks, trying his best to keep his emotions in control as well as Rayet does. He had managed to live almost two years as the loyal subordinate of the man who had shot Asseylum in front of his eyes, he would not falter now with a girl talking about the things she had done with that same devil-may-care tone of bitterness that is so uncomfortably familiar to him. 

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t ask for them to save and protect me and letting me become a crew member despite all that I’ve said and done, but they did it regardless. Your Princess, too. Do you know what the first thing she did after I tried to kill her was?”  
Her voice is pressed now, and Slaine opens his eyes again. Rayet smiles, barely, but her eyes seem to glisten just a bit more.  
“ _She_ apologised to _me_ for having become an unwitting pawn in all of this. I tried to kill her, and that’s what she did.”

 “That sounds like her,” Slaine hears himself say, his voice breaking somewhere in the middle, and he blinks to keep back tears he is not willing to shed. Rayet had probably seen them regardless, because her voice is even softer with the next words.  
“You can’t explain or battle their idiotic compassion and their calling to give second chances to even absolutely lost causes like us. No-one here hated me more than myself, no matter what I did.”  
She leans back on her arms, stretching her legs and tapping her foot against his ankle slightly.  
“With them, it’s give in or give up, there’s no third option.“ 

“What should I do, then?”  
“For someone Inaho holds in such high regard, you really are an idiot, Slaine Troyard,“ she taunts, and Slaine almost smiles.  
“Maybe I am.” 

“You are,” Inaho’s sleepy voice catches his attention just that moment, and Slaine looks over to where the other is sitting up, rubbing his neck. This time, Slaine does not recoil at the sight of the mismatched pair of eyes, one regarding him not quite as sharp as usual yet, but also not unkindly, the other nothing but a hollow shadow.  
“How long was I out?”  
“Beats me, you didn’t leave me a watch.”  
“You don’t need-” 

“Seeing you’re back to usual, I’m off then,” Rayet interjects before Inaho can elaborate further on whatever he has obviously to say on the topic of chronometry, rising to her feet and heading towards the door, “I still need to convince Inko she doesn’t have to personally take you down the next time you meet. Wish me luck.”  
She is already on the hallway outside when Slaine calls after her.  
“Thank you. For the food, I mean. And, well-”  
“Your speeches in the past were better phrased,” is all what she says in response before the door shuts behind her. 

“Rayet is one of a kind,” Inaho muses out loud, crossing the room barefoot and sitting down next to Slaine against the wall, pulling the tray of food closer.  
“All of you on this ship are,” Slaine says dryly, picking up his own fork and scooping up some of the by now definitely cold omelette, and Inaho does not disagree.  
Apparently, really everyone in Inaho’s vicinity is not exactly normal, Slaine thinks. Maybe he fit in with them nicely after all.

 


	16. Vs/054 : Reconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“When you hand someone a weapon and add them to your squad,” Slaine explains slowly as if he doubts Inaho’s capability of understanding his words, “you should very well expect them to protect you with their life. If not, you’ll die.”_   
>  _“I wasn’t afraid you would turn on me,” Inaho argues, “or on anyone else for that matter. I was just thinking that with all that happened, I know that you have no responsibility of going out of your way for my personal sake.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a meeting his held._

“What was it, back then?”  
“What was what?”  
“What you wanted to tell me before the drop. Or did you hit your head so hard you forgot?”  
Inaho turns to look at Slaine walking next to him, considering his reply.

“I remember,” he then admits, “I wanted to say that I don’t expect you to protect me with your life. But I guess that’s no longer relevant.”  
Slaine stops in his tracks at that, and Inaho has to turn his entire body to look back, his neck still protesting at any movement past looking straight ahead.  
“What?”  
“When you hand someone a weapon and add them to your squad,” Slaine explains slowly as if he doubts Inaho’s capability of understanding his words, “you should very well expect them to protect you with their life. If not, you’ll die.”

“I wasn’t afraid you would turn on me,” Inaho argues, “or on anyone else for that matter. I was just thinking that with all that happened, I know that you have no responsibility of going out of your way for my personal sake.”  
“You’re vital to this mission’s success, so it’s in my interest to protect you. Also, I told you, I was paying back my debt to you. We’re even now.”  
Inaho swallows the thought that technically speaking, it is the second time they have arrived at this point, the first time being them saving the other at Tanegashima, before everything had gone sideways, at least. He simply shrugs, instantly regretting the movement when it sends a stab of pain up his neck, and starts walking again.

“I told you, it was Asseylum’s wish, you’ve never been indebted to me, personally.”  
“You would rather have had me die, then?”  
Slaine sounds curious, but Inaho does not answer the question, instead only pointing at the room at the end of the hall.  
“Not now.”  
Slaine smiles, and Inaho can tell that he clearly doubts he will ever get a clear answer on the topic.

“Why are you taking me with you to this, anyway?”  
“The initial deal was that you stay under my supervision at all times, so consider this me, supervising you,” Inaho explains patiently, letting Slaine step in front of him to open the door. “Plus, you were on the mission as well, so you might have additional in-”  
Slaine halts so abruptly on the threshold that Inaho walks straight into him, his already damaged forehead making unpleasantly close contact with the back of Slaine’s head, and he cannot hold back a hiss of pain.

 

He does not even have to ask what happened, because he can hear her voice loud and clear even before he sidesteps the taller man in front of him to get a look at the big communication screen at the other end of the room.  
_“-said, all channels we know of have been sealed, so indeed our attempts at reaching out to Count Geine have been futile so far. I have instructed them to keep trying nonetheless. Even if there is only the margin of possibility of a diplomatic solution left, I do not want to give up.”_

Empress Asseylum Vers Allusia in all her regal posture lifts her head slightly at that in obvious defiance of everyone daring to call her a hopeless optimist, but no-one does. Inaho wonders if he should turn on his heels and usher Slaine out of the room again, but in that moment, they are spotted by Lieutenant Stanton who had apparently turned his head at the hissing sound of the hydraulic door. His right arm is in a cast, and there is a taped gash on his cheek, and in all in all, he does look to be in a rather bad constitution.

“Ah, General Kaizuka, Lieutenant Flygehunder, so you decided to join us after all,” he greets, and with a sudden movement, all attention shifts towards them. Inaho can feel Slaine tense up even more, if anyhow possible, as there are a few distinctively enraged stares among the general mere acknowledgement of their presence. He does not have the time to ponder on it when Asseylum calls out in unrestrained concern:  
_“Inaho-san! Are you alright? I heard you were injured, so I-”_  
“I’m fine, please don’t worry yourself over my condition,” Inaho replies with a smile, walking further into the room at last, all the while pushing Slaine along, who moves as if he is not quite aware of what he was doing.

 _“I am terribly sorry and saddened that you have to fight once more for my sake, against someone of my country, and my heartfelt compassion is with all who got injured or killed during this mission,”_ she continues, and Inaho is sure that only a true cynic would be able to doubt her sincerity. _“I wish I could have swayed his stance during our conversations, yet-”  
_ “An empress shouldn’t apologise for these things,” Magbaredge chides with one of her rare smiles. She had not even so much as glanced twice in Slaine’s direction. “Don’t worry, Your Highness, it is one more battle, and I’m confident we will win it.”

“We will,” Inaho agrees, reading Asseylum’s expression, and she smiles, gentle and just a bit melancholic.  
_“I have absolute trust in you.”_  
 _“Is truly everything alright, General Kaizuka, or do you need back-up?”_  
Stepping to her side from his previous position in appropriate distance behind her, Klancain leans into the focus of the camera now, appearing entirely at ease with making the noncommittal offer that entails more than everyone in the room apart from Inaho is aware of.

Inaho notes that even though it is hard to tell due to the larger than life projection, the man’s sharp eyes are not focussed on him, however, but on a point slightly above his right shoulder.  
“We’ll manage, thank you very much, Your Highness,” Inaho replies, and from the corner of his eye, he notices Slaine bowing ever so slightly.  
Klancain lets out a breath that comes close to a sigh.  
_“I’m glad to hear that, Kaizuka-san. I wish you success on the battlefield.”_

 _“Please stay safe, all of you!”_  
Asseylum almost hits her husband her husband, who steps back just in time, in a vivid gesture of clasping her hands together in front of her chest, abandoning all regal reservation.  
_“I hope for all of this to end without further bloodshed, please contact us as soon as you have new information.”_  
“Of course, Your Highness.”

Captain Magbaredge salutes as the video feed ends, and Inaho almost feels Slaine next to him shrink as he lets out the tension in a shaky breath. Inaho is not sure whether this coincidence of running into the transmission might have been good for the other’s state of mind or not, as psychological dilemmas of that sort are not expertise. He settles on simply hoping it had not disrupted Slaine’s composure and concentration too much, as he can see the way Inko glares at them from across the room, lips pressed into a tight line in obvious fury, while Rayet next to her looks vaguely disappointed. The last thing he could use right now is a slip-up on Slaine’s side.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, I think I can start with the wrap-up,” Marito announces, letting himself hand a folder from one of the two soldiers Inaho does not know, really. He assumes they are the other members of the Clydesdale Platoon, and all that matters is that from the looks of it, they had remained unharmed.  
“Retrieval Squad brought back as much as they could by now, though most of the Kataphraktoi are beyond repair,” Marito reads out, and it is obvious the next words pain him. “They pulled two soldiers of the Connemara Platoon out of the wrecks who were still alive, and one of the Brumby Platoon, though she’s still in critical condition. As for the rest, there was nothing they could do. My condolences once again, Lieutenant Stanton.”

The man gives a short nod in return, otherwise keeping a stoic façade.  
“From how I see it, it’s down to Kaizuka Junior’s and my platoon, really.”  
Marito hands the folder back to his subordinate and looks expectantly at Magbaredge.  
“We’ve fought battles with less,” she states calmly, stepping closer to the table in the centre and calling up satellite footage on the screen imbedded within. “We’re in touch with Countess Beldana whose Landing Castle is in stationary orbit close enough to our location. As soon as there is any movement of the Count, we will be informed immediately, although I expect it won’t be too soon as the Count probably has to reassess his strategy, also.”

“So they had to let members of the Empire in on this operation after all.”  
Inaho frowns, but Mizusaki explains it before her Captain has to.  
“We still don’t have as all-encompassing a satellite system on Earth’s side as we had before the war, so we have to rely on Vers tech and support for some operations. Other than that, there will be no involvement from their side, however.”  
Her eyes dart over to Slaine for a second, and Inaho knows that she mentally added “and the employment of the former leader of the Vers rebellion” to the list. It is an odd situation, as after the failed operation before, now two thirds of the people present are aware of Slaine’s true identity.

“So what about the detail on the Kataphrakt?” Yuki speaks up, shooting Inaho a warning glance and obviously trying to steer the discussion back into focus.  
“That’s the really weird thing,” Marito begins, scratching his neck. “They found no bullet casings of his or anything, only what seems to be remnants of our bullets, but going by the damage our units took? That Kataphrakt must have a variety of firepower.”  
“Also, extreme firing speed,” Rayet adds, and Magbaredge pulls up a still image of the unknown Martian Kataphrakt on the screen.

“From the looks of it, it must have some form of weapon in the armour plates on the arms, even though they also seem to serve as shielding.”  
She pauses with a frown, turning her attention back towards Inaho.  
“I really can hardly believe it withstood a direct hit from the main cannons of the ship, though. That’s unusual even for Vers technology, isn’t it?”  
Inaho suddenly realises she is not looking at him, but at Slaine, and sees the other nod his head.

“No bullet casings and the speed,” Inko speaks up, avoiding Inaho’s eyes and looking intently at the screen instead, “I was actually thinking, and maybe that sounds stupid, but - what if it literally throws our own bullets back at us?”  
“What, like deflecting them?” Yuki asks, and Inko shrugs.  
“Maybe rather than just deflecting, it can actively control their paths?”  
“That would be close to teleporting the bullets once they hit it,” Stanton muses, brows furrowed. “Is that even possible?”

 “We’ve fought a Kataphrakt that could literally produce infinite clones acting independently from each other, I’m pretty sure there’s little Aldnoah engines can’t do,” Rayet quips, and again, Inaho realises it is not so much directed at him as at the person standing next to him, suspiciously silent.  
“You haven’t said anything yet, what do you think it is, Kaizuka Junior?”

Magbaredge looks expectant, and Inaho turns to her Vice Captain.  
“While I had the doctor patch me up, I requested the technicians look into the bullets that must have been retrieved along with the damaged Kataphraktoi. Are there any results yet?”  
Mizusaki picks up a tablet from the table, swiping across the surface and giving a nod before handing it over to him.

Inaho quickly scans the file, and feels himself smile.  
“I think I know what its abilities are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> I may have had physics in school until my graduation year, but please don't grill me on the details in this and the next chapter. To quote Daniel Radcliffe, _I tried, and therefore, no-one should criticise me_ ( ˙ ᴗ ˙ )  
>  Also, it's Use/Speak Your Language Day on tumblr - if you, I don't know, always have wanted to see one of the lines of this fic (or anything else, really) translated into German for whatever reason, feel free to ask me ヽ(・∀・ )ﾉ


	17. Vs/055 : Reflect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Inaho notes the deep concentration written on Slaine’s features, and he briefly wonders if he had looked like that in the past, too, when it had been Inaho’s strategies and abilities Slaine had been trying to work out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which nothing ever changes._

“Which is..?” Yuki prompts, and Inaho transfers the file to the screen on the table surface in the middle, stepping back with a self-satisfied expression. The others just blankly stare at the figures and charts, before finally Magbaredge asks with a sigh: “And what is this supposed to show us?”  
“The bullets aren’t our own. The composition of the metals is slightly different.”  
“If it’s not our own bullets being thrown back at us, how is it possible that they match up in number and caliber like this?” Marito asks.  
“We shouldn't think of it as a teleportation ability to begin with,” Inaho explains. “Think of it as the truly perfect elastic collision instead.” 

Another beat of silence follows, and Inaho notices one of the Clydesdale soldiers sigh in obvious frustration. Before Yuki might tell him off for lack of respect for her brother, Inaho continues his explanation.  
“Elastic collision means a transference of impulse between two objects. Aldnoah is an endless supply of energy with no losses, the type of which we don’t have on earth. Or at least, never had, until recently. We got close to perfect elastic collision, but with Aldnoah, it stands to guess that it truly is perfect and no kinetic energy or impulse is lost. With no forces interfering, it all boils down to Newton’s third axiom, actio equals reactio.” 

“So rather than the bullets, it’s the force of impact of our rounds that is completely returned in his own attacks, then?” Inko wonders out loud, and Inaho nods.  
“That is how there is no delay in shooting due to ignition. He instantly returns fire the moment he absorbs the impact.”  
“But if it’s his own bullets, then how can the caliber vary like that?” Stanton’s brows are knitted in confusion, and Inaho cannot help but smile slightly. There is a certain thrill to figuring out Versian Kataphraktoi’s abilities, and he cannot deny that.  
“That’s the thing, it doesn’t.”  
Once again, his explanation is met with bewildered silence, until suddenly, there is a voice coming from behind him. 

“Even a pebble can split a person’s head open if dropped from high enough a building. If the force of impact is transferred entirely, even smaller projectiles will have the same devastating firepower as the ship’s cannons.”  
Inko narrows her eyes at Slaine intervening, but apparently he does not care, instead stepping forward and studying the files himself. Inaho notes the deep concentration written on Slaine’s features, and he briefly wonders if he had looked like that in the past, too, when it had been Inaho’s strategies and abilities Slaine had been trying to work out. 

“From the composition of the metal, I think it might actually be even more accurate to think of it as hailstones rather than pebbles. He might be able to form ammunition in these shields rather than use normal bullets of different calibers. It would also explain the lack of casings, and it would be more efficient as to the storage space.”  
“I agree,” Inaho simply states, and Slaine turns his head to look at him in honest surprise. 

“So, every defensive move it makes is at the same time the prerequisite to an attack. The perfect balance,” Rayet muses.  
“That means, the bigger our weapons, the bigger also the force thrown back at us. That takes the Deucalion out of the equation. He might be able to withstand our firepower, our units, not so much.”  
Magbaredge crosses her arms and frowns. 

“If every hit we manage to land is thrown back at us instantly, how are we even supposed to take him down?” Marito rakes a hand through his hair with a sigh.  
“Do you know what happens if you lift and then release the outer spheres of a Newton’s Cradle from both ends of the row at the same time?” Inaho questions in turn, and is met with a slightly exasperated  
but resigned glance in return.  
“No, I must have skipped that particular physics class back in the day.”  
Yuki slaps her Captain on the arm for the comment, but Inaho calmly answers.  
“The impulses cancel themselves out and instead of orderly transmission of the movement, there is one chaotic jumbling before it comes to a standstill.” 

He can tell that the others present are trying to figure out how that analogy is supposed to help them, as he had not directly addressed the issue of bullets being returned, and again it is Slaine who speaks first, reaching out to switch the image on the screen back to the Kataphrakt image.  
“If we want to apply your example to the situation at hand, it would be an exactly coordinated assault on both sides of the shields at the same time with the exact same force. That’s what you meant, isn’t it?” 

Inaho nods, and Slaine smiles, seemingly more to himself than to anyone in particular.  
“Nevermind that you’re talking as if it would be that easy to actually just get close enough to try that stunt - how do you even want to guarantee the exact same amount of force is used?”  
Inko sounds tired, but less upset than she had before. Inaho takes it as a tentative indicator that she would not try to kill him for his previous lies.  
“Good question, since you no longer have the ability to highjack other people’s Kats.” 

Rayet’s casual statement has both Inko and Yuki flinch, while Slaine furrows his brows in confusion and vague suspicion.  
“True,” Inaho says lightly, brushing over his eyepatch, and Slaine’s expression changes to a glare. “That’s why it will be down to human cooperation and timing.”  
“That sounds impossible,” Stanton sighs. 

“Not impossible, only difficult,” Inaho disagrees, turning back towards Magbaredge. “I need some time to think about the best approach, Captain, and I’ll need a new Kataphrakt. Since the Count relies on us shooting first, we should be fine for the time being, as I don’t think he’d actually come all the way to attack the base.”  
“I trust your call. Make sure you recuperate. I’ll see to the Kataphraktoi being replaced, and the rest, we can discuss later, it’s getting late for today. Meeting adjourned.”  
Magbaredge nods, and before Inaho can say anything more, Inko already leaves the room, followed by Rayet who gives an apologetic shrug in his direction. 

“Give them some time,” Yuki whispers as she passes by him towards the door, patting his head very gently, and Marito gives him a small smile.  
 _“The doctor was right, you’re one crazy kid, Kaizuka Junior”, i_ s what he had said when he had half-walked, half-carried Inaho to the medical bay, _“but I’ll just trust that you know what you’re doing. Can’t be worse than what we’ve already been through, anyway.”_

 

Inaho and Slaine are the last ones to leave the room, in unspoken agreement to avoid any awkward meet-ups on the hallways if possible.  
“You really are good at figuring out these things. I can see how you managed to defeat two Knights that easily even before we met,” Slaine says as they walk back towards their room, but Inaho shakes his head, remembering the reason why he should not a split second too late.  
“It wasn’t easy, and it was as much luck as it was my strategy," he honestly admits, rubbing his neck gingerly,  "and I could never have done it alone. Without my friends backing me up, I would not even have survived the first encounter in Shinawara.” 

“That’s hard to imagine.”  
Slaine sounds almost wistful, and Inaho cannot refrain from asking: “Have you achieved what you did entirely on your own?”  
“No.”  
Inaho does not even expect Slaine to elaborate, because he knows it is a sensitive topic. Slaine had voiced no complaints against the slander of his Clan’s name, but he had insisted that it was to remain at that, giving no further insight into who or who not had sided with him before. Most of the information in that regard had come from Eddelrittuo, the only one alive who had spent the entire time at Slaine’s side, but Inaho had not been able to truly understand the picture she had drawn of the man who had gone as far as killing another Count in a public duel with zero regrets in order to climb the ranks.

_“He is gentle and lonely more than anything. Also, loyal to a fault to Princess Asseylum, and I don’t think he’ll ever be anything but that.”_

“I could never have done what I did alone,” Slaine surprises him, and there is a sad smile on his lips, the kind of which Inaho does not remember having seen before. “But in the end, I failed. You should be glad that your friends are that angry with you, Kaizuka Inaho. I sometimes wonder that if those close to me had voiced protest against my decisions earlier, maybe then...”  
He trails off, and Inaho does not dig deeper. The pain underlying Slaine’s soft voice is obvious, and he remembers the one and only time Slaine had asked him something back during his first visits, before they had fallen into their routines of chess games and almost normal conversations, when he had still been silent more than anything.

 

_“Answer me only one question, Kaizuka Inaho. Among the soldiers you took into custody after the Moon Base had fallen, was there a Knight named Harklight?”  
_ Inaho had shaken his head, and he had seen Slaine swallow, leaning back in his chair and brushing his hands over his face.  
 _“That fool,”_ he had muttered so low and soft that Inaho had known it had not been meant for his ears.  
 _“Are you not going to ask about the imposter?”_ he had asked instead, and Slaine had snapped back to glare at him, eyes glistening.  
 _“Don’t call her that,”_ he had grit out, fury pushing the pain and sadness from his face for a brief instance.  
“ _They caught up to the their shuttle before they could get far towards Vers. She’s staying with the Imperial Family now.”_

For a while, he had thought Slaine would not even comment on that, his eyes trained on the empty metallic surface of the table between them. From the way his shoulders were set, Inaho could tell he was clenching his fists in his lap.  
 _“Does she know?”_ he had suddenly asked, still not looking at Inaho, and his voice had been half hopeful, half dreading.  
 _“I honestly don’t know if they have told her yet. When she learned of you having been chosen as the scapegoat alongside your father, apparently she slapped Klancain square across the face, twice. She only didn’t hit Asseylum because according to her, hitting a weak-hearted girl is beneath her status.”  
_ Slaine had not spoken a single word after that, neither on that day, nor during the next visit.

The one after that, Inaho had arrived to find the chessboard already in position. _  
“Vers would have hanged me as a traitor, but here I am, playing chess with Kaizuka Inaho,”_ he had said in lieu of a greeting as Inaho had taken his seat, noting that Slaine had chosen the black set for himself.  
 _“Asseylum has abolished death penalty along with the practice of duels recently,”_ he had replied, and for the first time, he had seen Slaine laugh, even though it was short and probably bitter in nature.  
 _“That’s good news. I’m glad for those who won’t have to stain their hands with blood in the future.”_  
For all Inaho could tell, Slaine had been sincere, and while their first actual match had ended in his victory, Slaine had complimented his skills the same way. Even if all of his time as a Count had been one of pure deception, within the walls of his confinement, he had seemed to be honest.

 

The little time remaining of the evening is spent in silence, each of them busy with their own thoughts. Inaho is already almost falling asleep when he hears Slaine’s voice again from the bed above.  
“She looks well.”  
He does not have to ask, and he knows with sudden certainty that Slaine feels the same tightness in his chest at this statement that he does.  
“She does.”  
“I’m glad.”

It is the last thing he hears before he drifts into dreamless slumber.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> [Thank you all so much for your support.](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/118488726938/in-the-spirit-of-i-tried-and-therefore-no-one) Really, I mean it. Also, there'll be no new chapter this weekend as I have family business to attend to. Updates will probably start again next week. _(:3 」∠)
> 
>  
> 
> _vi. interpreter_
> 
> _"Everyone's present, we can start the meeting." Captain Marbarge doesn't even look at her notes. "Does anyone have any explanations on what happened during the last brush-up against the enemy?"_
> 
> _"Yes, Captain. I believe it was the collateral effect from - " Inaho speaks up, to no-one's surprise._
> 
> _"- plus the continuity of weather conditions conducive to - " Slaine supplies._
> 
> _"- you're right, give or take slight deviations that could be considered of marginal importance - "_
> 
> _"- yes, I agree, but that can be disconted for the purposes of the operation -"_
> 
> _"- but it's still worth rememebring for the whole picture, because -"_
> 
> _"- yes, because_ science is important _, I remember."_
> 
> _Captain Magbaredge sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose._
> 
> _"Now, does anyone want to volunteer_ explanations _to these explanations?"_


	18. Vs/056 : Repercussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When Inaho returns from the shower the next morning, the first thing he notices coming back into the cabin is a conspicuous lack of his room mate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which differences are set aside._

When Inaho returns from the shower the next morning, the first thing he notices coming back into the cabin is a conspicuous lack of his room mate. For a second, some remote and illogical part of his mind snaps to panic, providing unhelpful mental images of someone having found out about Slaine’s identity and decided on making an example out of executing the traitor, before he has himself pulled back together and notices that the phone he has left behind on the bed is blinking, indicating a new message from his sister.  
 _I picked up your Lieutenant for breakfast in the small meeting room next to the canteen. There’s some need for discussion, I think. Feel free to join._

Sure enough, when he arrives at the room, Slaine is sitting at the table between Yuki and Rayet, somehow managing to appear smaller than either of them, and Inaho swears the moment that Slaine spots him, there is unabashed relief on his face for a second before Inaho just shakes his head. There is little he thinks himself unable to go up against, but if it is the combined force of his equally headstrong sister and friends, there is nothing he can do.

“So, how does that work? Is it like that thing the Princess used?” Nina inquires in this moment, completely ignoring Inaho’s arrival while Inko next to her gives him a pout but still makes some more room on their side of the table and demonstratively pushes a tray loaded with his favourite items from the canteen towards him.  
“It’s the same engine the Princess used, yes,” Slaine explains politely, pointing towards his neck where nothing is visible except for the blue tie, and Nina reacts instantly.  
“Undo it.” 

“I don’t know if I may?”  
Slaine’s tone indicates he is waiting for a confirmation, and Inaho swallows a piece of toast before answering.  
“I don’t see why not, given that everyone here already knows.”  
And silently, towards Inko: “You told Nina?”  
“Of course I told Nina, because you wouldn’t, because you’re an idiot, Inaho,” she hisses back, kicking his shin under the table.  
Inaho tries not to flinch too much and holds back from pointing out that kicking someone who is already injured, let alone a superior, is bad form, but Inko’s attention is drawn to the play of light accompanying the illusion engine activating entirely. 

“It’s really him,” she mutters, and Inaho blinks.  
“Did you think Yuki was lying?”  
“No, I thought you wouldn’t be this crazy to actually go and ally yourself with Slaine _Commander of the Orbital Knights_ Troyard, Inaho.”  
There is not so much anger behind her words than disappointment, and Inaho settles for more toast instead of a reply.

“You look better with blond hair, you’re too pale to pull off dark hair colours,” Nina gives her verdict at that moment, and Slaine searches out Inaho in obvious confusion as to how to deal with the situation, but he only shrugs.  
“I- I’ll keep that in mind.”  
Nina simply beams at him in response.

“Holy shit, it really is him,” a belated echo repeats from direction of the door at that moment, and Inaho is only half surprised to see Calm entering, tray in his hands, and shaking his head in disbelief. “And I was still thinking maybe you hit your head, too, Inko.”  
“No, it’s just Inaho pulling crazy stunts on us again,” Inko retaliates, and Inaho sighs, putting down his food and knife.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you,” he admits, ignoring the multiple verbal and nonverbal confirmations he gets in response. Inko punches his arm lightly, but it is more affectionate than intended as punishment. “In my defence, it is highly classified information. Only the UFE leadership council, the Imperial Family and those directly involved with keeping him secured knew.”

“ _Keeping him secured?”_ Rayet repeats, looking at the person next to her with raised eyebrows. “What, do they keep you locked up in a basement somewhere?”  
“A house, really,” Slaine corrects, apparently having resigned to going along with all of this and taking a sip from his cup of tea.  
“Since we know now, go ahead and tell us all of it, Inaho,” Calm orders, sitting down on the chair next to Inaho and looking at him expectantly. Inaho hesitates one second more before giving in to the inevitable. 

“There’s not much to tell, really. Asseylum asked me to save him, so I did. Since the remaining Knights sided with her after their previous centre of power fell, he no longer poses a threat and the UFE agreed to sparing his life in secret while giving the public closure to the whole affair with his alleged death. You already know he wasn’t the one who planned the assassination in our hometown, but it was the man who adopted him, so the entire Clan takes the blame since he continued the legacy of warfare after Count Saazbaum passed away. That’s all.”  
“That’s insane enough,” Inko says with a sigh, fixing her eyes on Slaine. “You really look a lot younger up close, I can’t even believe you’re the guy who almost killed us multiple times.” 

“And saved us at Tanegashima, initially,” Yuki adds, not looking at Slaine but instead concentrating on buttering her toast, and Inaho gives her a small grateful smile.  
“Oh,” says Inko with sudden realisation, eyes growing wide, “right, Inaho said it was the same pilot that he met at Nov-”  
She stops herself, and a beat of awkward silence follows.  
“Yes, I’m the same person,” Slaine then confirms, sounding vaguely amused. “I know you’ll never forgive me for some things I did, and I don’t expect or want you to, but I can assure you that back then, I was not driven by ill intent towards you.” 

Even more uncomfortable silence follows, everyone trying to avoid looking at Slaine directly, and Inaho sets down his cup with emphasis.  
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have shot you down at Tanegashima, of course. But we had just been attacked earlier that day by a Knight of Vers despite the armistice guaranteed by the Emperor himself, and we had the one proof of Earth’s innocence hiding among us, with no way to tell who was in on the conspiracy and who was not. What would you have done?”  
“The same,” Slaine replies evenly with one of his odd smiles, and Inko groans.  
“So you two are on the same page of the rational _Nevermind I tried to kill you, it was perfectly logical back at the time_ book, wonderful,” she complains, and Calm laughs.

“I guess someone who is just as ridiculously matter-of-fact about things makes for the only matching second in command for Inaho. But just so you know, Troyard,” he points his knife half covered with butter still in Slaine’s direction at that, “even though you may already have stolen my spot as his room mate, I won’t let you steal my spot as his best friend.”  
“We’re not friends,” Inaho can hear Slaine say the same moment he replies: “Next time, I’ll hold an audition for the spot, Calm.”  
Inko snorts and even Rayet’s lips twitch into a smile, while Nina goes back to her game of questions. 

“Is it really true that unless you’re nobility, all the food on Vers is synthesised and tastes pretty much alike?” Nina sounds horrified at the notion, and Slaine nods.  
“Rayet doesn’t even remember that much from Vers,” Calm whines, ignoring Rayet shooting him a glare across the table, “seriously dude, where were you when we had to study for that last Vers history midterm we had to take?”  
“In jail, probably,” Slaine says dryly, and Yuki drops her spoon into her coffee cup, cursing at the drops splashing onto her white shirt. Slaine hands her a napkin with a mumbled apology. 

Calm shakes his head at Slaine in obvious amazement.  
“You really are crazy. Both of you are.”  
Neither Slaine nor Inaho disagree, and the rest of their breakfast is spent with the most unusual mixture of questions raging from _What do you still remember from life on Earth?_ to _Did you really intend to marry the Princess?._ Slaine answers most of them with polite patience, and freezes at others until either Inaho or Rayet take pity on him and turn down the question in his place.

“I still don’t understand how Inaho can be okay with letting you that close,” Inko comments when they are cleaning up their private dining room, and Slaine looks as if he agrees, really. “But I suppose if I were to ignore you being the guy who just happened to be our mortal enemy, you’re pretty alright. I guess.”  
“Thank you,” Slaine replies earnestly, and Inko sighs.  
“You don’t say thank you when someone says something like that to you.”  
“I do, because you’re honest, and that means a lot.”  
Inko blinks, apparently at a loss of words for once, and when she and Nina squeeze past Inaho through the door, he thinks he can hear her mutter under her breath: “Villains aren’t supposed to be nice, are they?”

  

When Inaho escorts Slaine to the central conference room later, he notices the other is still smiling.  
“You disappearing like that without telling me was actually a breach of the stipulations,” he muses out loud for the record, but Slaine only shoots him an almost pitying look.  
“I don’t think your sister is someone you can argue with about such things. I thought acting on what she said was the wisest choice.”  
“Probably,” Inaho admits, and he cannot deny he is glad that the tensions within the team have eased up a little. He had never wanted anyone to know, but no longer having to keep a secret is oddly relieving. It had been like that before, when he had kept Seylum’s identity hidden from everyone else, and when Rayet and him had committed martial sabotage in releasing a prisoner of war, and each time, it had been a cut into the band of trust between his friends and him. Why they still chose to forgive him time and time again, Inaho is not even sure of. 

“You should be grateful, really. Your friends are good people,” Slaine’s voice pulls him out of his reminiscence.  
“I know,” Inaho says, confused, but Slaine only shakes his head.  
“You really don’t. Take my advice: Don’t lie to them again in the future.”  
Inaho watches as Slaine passes him by, wondering when it had come to Slaine Troyard of all people giving him orders as to how to deal with others.  
“I don’t need you to tell me.”  
Slaine laughs, but does wait for him to catch up.

“Yes, I think you do, actually.”


	19. Vs/057 : Revision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You’re really polite with other people,” Inaho remarks when they turn a corner, down the corridor towards yesterday’s meeting hall, and Slaine frowns at the random observation._   
>  _“I was raised to be polite, I’m always like this.”_   
>  _When Inaho pointedly remains silent, Slaine amends: “In most situations, at least.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a strategy is formed._

“You’re really polite with other people,” Inaho remarks when they turn a corner, down the corridor towards yesterday’s meeting hall, and Slaine frowns at the random observation.  
“I was raised to be polite, I’m always like this.”  
When Inaho pointedly remains silent, Slaine amends: “In most situations, at least.”  
  
He will not, not even in jest or for show, apologise for treating Inaho differently than he does most, because there is too much bad blood between them for that. It had been different in the past, when he had had to treat even the people who had acted cruelly towards him with utmost respect, because his very life had entirely depended on their goodwill, a time spent in the constant fear that the slightest misstep might cause another irrational fit of anger in his superiors. While in a way, he is now equally dependent on Inaho, it is different, because he does not fear the other even in the slightest. There is nothing Inaho can take from him that he has not already lost at some point, and keeping up appearances with him after they had seen each other at their lowest points seems unnecessary.

“It makes things easier. People are more willing to cooperate with someone respecting their habits than someone spiteful.”  
Slaine does not voice out lout that Inaho probably thinks him to be more calculating in these situation than he is, truly, giving him more credit than is due. To someone who applied logic to all areas of life, even social situations apparently seemed to be easy to solve equations. Inaho had expected his friends and comrades to accept Slaine’s presence due to the argument of usefulness, disregarding that for most people, it was impossible to overcome years of resentment rationally like that.

“You don’t have to like another to be able to work together,” Slaine states, without going into further detail. Inaho probably had filled in the blanks in his career path of climbing through the ranks of Vers military by stepping over the corpses of adversaries long ago, and has to be aware that the partly literally familiar closeness Inaho shares with the members of his team is of an entirely different nature than what Slaine had experienced as the leader of Orbital Knights.  
True respect is better than fear, that Slaine is sure of, but he wonders where the unconditional trust Inaho’s friends seem to have in him is ranking on that scale. His success in the war makes it easy to think of it as the paramount relationship, and still Slaine had lost his own comrades due to their blind loyalty in the end. They should have been on equal footing, yet Inaho simply had been the lucky one in this war, had been from the start, and the explanation is as unsatisfying as it is evident. The universe could be cruel and favouring like that.

 

“Good morning, Kaizuka Junior, Troyard,” the Captain greets them the moment they step into the conference room, disrupting his unpleasant memories instantly. Slaine tenses at the casual mention of his name, immediately scanning the accumulation of people present. He notes that both Captain Marito’s two subordinates and Lieutenant Stanton are absent today, and that he is left with a group of people who know exactly he is.

“I prefer being perfectly clear about things, if anyhow possible,” the Captain continues, obviously having perceived his discomfort, and regards him with her sharp gaze. “This situation is not optimal, and I would have preferred it not coming to pass at all, but now that we have to deal with it, we will.”  
Slaine casts a glance at the boy beside him, and he observes that the implied reprimand completely slides off Inaho.  
“Thank you, Captain Magbaredge. This is indeed preferable.”  
“All of us know and can deal with it, more or less,” Marito agrees. He looks as if there is little that could still shake him, and Slaine surfacing among the crew apparently does not qualify. “But I can’t say that for the rest of my squad, or anyone else in this crew really. By your hands or your words, you’ve caused us quite a number of losses, and no matter how Kaizuka Junior here may argue he’s sure of you not being inherently bad and willing to help us out, I doubt they’d react favourably.”

“So the best way to deal with this is keeping it between the smallest number of people possible,” Mizusaki continues, and Slaine feels his eye twitch at the fact that within less than 24 hours, the entire group of Inaho’s friends on this ship had already learned of his true identity. He briefly wonders if the Captain is aware of it, but decides it is best to just quietly avoid the subject entirely.  
“That’s in line with the way the next operation will have to be orchestrated, too,” Inaho speaks up, apparently equally happy to ignore the constant underlying complaints about him bringing Slaine into this in the first place. “I’ve thought about it, and I think we should not call for reinforcements but strike with what we have now.”  
  
“That’s either optimistic or suicidal,” Marito sighs, and Inko asks: “But you said the firepower of that Count’s Kat relies on us attacking him, so won’t us striking first give him exactly what he wants?”  
“Yes,” Inaho agrees, and the girl frowns in confusion. Slaine can relate to the feeling, watching Inaho from the side. As usual, his facade of calm and self-assured confidence is flawless, and even though Inaho had not appeared to be actively planning anytime the last night and this morning, Slaine suddenly has no doubt that Inaho has something in mind. Or rather, he might already have had the moment yesterday’s meeting had ended, more likely.

“However, if we don’t make any move at all, he will most certainly know that we’ve figured out the specifics of his Kataphrakt.”  
“Wouldn’t that maybe inspire him to reconsider his options of a peaceful settlement to this whole rebellion?” Mizusaki asks, and Slaine beats Inaho to the answer, feeling a bitter smile pull at the corners of his mouth.  
“Definitely not. It doesn’t matter how many Vers Kataphraktoi this ship in specific has destroyed before, after all he knew all that well before refusing to return his territory. Even if he were to learn that you have figured out his Achilles’ Heel, he will not back down now. It’s against-,” Slaine manages to stop _our_ from rolling off his tongue, years of practice in public speeches and lying letting him smoothly shift direction in the last second, “the proud tradition of Vers Knights. Surrendering is not an option, even if one finds oneself absolutely outmatched.”

 “That’s insane,” Rayet murmurs quietly into the uneasy silence, and Slaine smiles.  
“He’s right,” Inaho continues as if nothing had happened, “in fact, the Count may already suspect we know by now, given our hasty retreat yesterday. If we don’t attack his territory again, I doubt he’ll quietly sit back and wait for us to call reinforcements and try at a later point in time. He has no allies at the moment, a siege would most certainly be effective, and he’s definitely aware of that.”  
“So you think he might instead bring the fight to us if we wait too long,” Yuki summarises with a frown.

“Then why not let him come to us? We would profit from fighting on grounds we know better, right?”  
Captain Marito runs his fingers through his hair, and Slaine notices a gleam of metal on his wrist. Dog tags, he realises, and for a second wonders whether the person they had belonged to originally also features on the list of casualties he had caused. He has no time to feel discomfort over it, however, not when it is so easy to fall back into the routines of a strategist instead. Emotions have no place in devising tactics, and he will leave working out his guilt tallied with each and every single member in this unlikely group later. Or maybe, never. For now, all he can do is try to prevent these people who had survived the war that had never really stopped for them from a meaningless death.  
  
“His next attack would most likely not be limited to a Kataphrakt assualt,” Slaine says, and he can feel the other people in the room go still even before he enunciates what they probably know just as well as he does. “Count Geine’s Landing Castle is still fully functional. Even if with this ship you’ll be able to evacuate in time, and maybe even cause enough damage to him to take him out, you won’t be able to do so before he eradicates this base and all of those left here.”  
“Then we won’t let him do that,” Captain Magbaredge decides calmly, turning towards Inaho. “You want us to engage him as before, Kaizuka Junior?”  
“Yes, as close to his territory as possible. He has lost most of his airforce most certainly, and numbers won’t help against his abilities directly. I believe we can capture victory with just the two platoons here and the Deucalion.”

“It’s going to be reckless, isn’t it?” Yuki complains, an anxious tone evident in her voice. Inaho shakes his head. Slaine notes that the movement is still deliberate and mindful of his injured neck, proof that the other is not as invincible as he might wish to appear.  
“Not more than any other missions we have carried out,” he assures her, and Slaine does not have to know this crew’s shared past in detail to understand that with their track record, that had been a fairly unreassuring statement, to put it mildly. He decides in this moment that Inaho might be a lot of things, maybe even a good leader, but he should never be the one giving soldiers motivational speeches. He might as well have said _The risk of dying is only 50%, don’t worry. I’m half sure this won’t go horribly wrong.  
_

“As I mentioned yesterday, we’ll need two units attacking both sides of his shield simultaneously,” Inaho continues, in stride and apparently oblivious to the exchanged looks of resignation between the others, “who have to operate swiftly as not to let him in on their plan, or else he’ll never let us into proximity again.”  
“How do you want to get that close in the first place?” Rayet asks, eyebrows raised. “From what I remember, there was constant gunfire from those very shields, which appears to me as a very good method to safeguard one’s weak spot, incidentally.”  
“Well, as long as we don’t hit the shields, he won’t be able to return fire, right?” Yuki questions, and Inko lets out an exasperated laugh.  
“This has to be the first time then that I’m told to make an effort _not_ to hit the target.”

“Don’t make it too obvious you’re misaiming on purpose,” Inaho warns, “or he’ll instantly know that something is up and the units firing are only dec-”  
“Don’t say it,” Inko whines to Slaine’s confusion, and Inaho coughs.  
“Diversion,” he then finishes his sentence, and the girls sigh in unison. “As long as there won’t be as many hits as the last time, it will be manageable to get close to him. Captain, I would ask you to secure the airspace for us, and in case that there is any movement whatsoever from the Landing Castle to intercept it immediately.”  
“Understood. You seem to have all that planned out nicely, but I have one question, Kaizuka Junior.” The Captain tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at Inaho. Slaine is oddly relieved that it is the other who has to deal with her scrutiny this time around.

 “You keep mentioning “we” and I have the feeling you wish to lead this mission in the field. However, after yesterday’s injuries, are you really in any condition to be piloting yourself?”  
“I’m perfectly capable,” Inaho insists, and straightens his posture ever so slightly. “You’ve let me pilot in worse shape before, and right now, the stakes are lower than back then.”

There is a moment of self-conscious silence. Slaine remembers the encounter with Inaho back in Marylcian’s Landing Castle, his visible exhaustion and do-or-die determination that he now knows were due to something literally eating away at Inaho’s lifespan, a deal with the devil in order to beat Slaine to victory, a destroyed eye traded for artificial intelligence surpassing the human capability of processing. War is not about being sympathetic for each and everyone’s conditions, but about using one’s resources to the fullest, and going by the fact that the orange Kataphrakt had participated in almost every major battle since the start of the hostilities, Slaine knows the UFE had not squandered their god-sent prodigy, with no consideration for the person himself.

“That is why,” the Captain disagrees, unapologetic. “Now, we have the luxury to have you sit out, it’s no longer only up to you. I’m certain the others here can carry out this mission as well, with your strategy.”  
Slaine casts a glance at Yuki, her eyes fixed on her brother, and it is obvious she wishes he would agree. Slaine knows he will not before Inaho even speaks again.

“I don’t doubt anyone’s capabilities here,” Inaho states vehemently.  
_I know I can rely on my own strength and skill, and on that of my comrades,_ Slaine remembers him saying, and he does not doubt his sincerity for even a heartbeat. _What I do best is destroy threats posed by others, and I try to protect the people I care for that way_ , and it is because of that that Inaho will insist on participating himself. Not because he does not trust his friends, but because he knows his own strengths and weaknesses the best, and wants to be the one who deals with the most difficult and dangerous parts of the job.

“In order for this manoeuvre to work, the pincer attack has to be as synchronous as possible. There is the risk that it fails, of course, and in that case hopefully the failed attempt at least causes enough distraction that you can try and aim at parts beyond the shield and stop the Kataphrakt that way.”  
“We’ll cover for you,” Captain Marito promises.  
“Assuming you want to be one of the two going for the finishing blow, who do you want to be the other pilot?” Captain Magbaredge asks, and Slaine turns towards Inaho with genuine interest. Synchrony as a skill is something achieved by long and repeated practice, though a match in general understanding of movement is just as vital to success. Going by those criteria, Slaine expects Inaho to pick his sister, or maybe his high school friend, both of whom he had seen in battle to be competent pilots.

He had not expected Inaho to without even looking his way place a hand on his shoulder and with a tone that made obvious he thought the matter self-evident declare: “The second pilot will be Slaine Troyard, of course.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> Apologies for the radio silence, both in retrospect and in advance, as I doubt I will be able too keep up with the original posting schedule. The fic will definitely be completed, however. Thank all of you for your support and kind words _(:3 」∠)
> 
> As for this chapter’s (unsurprising) turn of events, I just keep going back to Honest Trailer’s _Pacific Rim_ trailer and its explanation of Drift Compatibility: [“A system so advanced only family members can do it. Or two random strangers. Or just one guy by himself. This makes no sense. But it sure looks cool!”](https://youtu.be/fupWquPNoTc?t=53s) Honestly though, there probably never have been two anime characters as ridiculously drift compatible as those two.
> 
> Finally, countless words of thanks to kitsunezumi, who gifted this fanfic with the most amazing [illustration](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=50406543). Thank you so, so much!! (T‿T)/


	20. Vs/058 : Re-equip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We’ve managed entirely synchronous attacks before, I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” Inaho continues, dropping his hand from Slaine’s shoulder and looking almost confused at how people could not see what was obvious to him, apparently._  
>  _"Yes, against_ each other _,” Inko stresses the last words, hands slamming down on the edge of the light table separating them for emphasis._  
>  _“That doesn’t change the fact that they were well-timed. You’re arguing semantics here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a downgrade is an upgrade._

“I’ll be what?” is Slaine’s first, and admittedly not brightest, response, but thankfully it is drowned out entirely by a cacophony of reactions by the other people in the room. There is the Captain’s flat out “No”, Yuki’s and Inko’s wailed protest that only a syllable apart in name, and whatever Rayet mutters under her breath, it is probably best unheard.

“We’ve managed entirely synchronous attacks before, I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” Inaho continues, dropping his hand from Slaine’s shoulder and looking almost confused at how people could not see what was obvious to him, apparently.  
“Yes, against _each other,_ ” Inko stresses the last words, hands slamming down on the edge of the light table separating them for emphasis.  
“That doesn’t change the fact that they were well-timed. You’re arguing semantics here.”  
The girl groans.  
“You’re unbelievable, Inaho.” 

“Well, he’s proven he’s a good pilot,” Captain Marito tries to intermediate, and when Slaine turns his attention towards him, he finds himself being directly looked at. “Do you think you can do it?”  
“I don’t know,” Slaine says, honestly. “I no longer have the ability to predict the future, so all I can offer is trusting his decision and try.”  
“That’s not exactly comforting.” Yuki frowns, and worry is obviously mirrored on her face.  
“Are you saying my decisions can’t be trusted?” 

Slaine snaps his attention back to Inaho, but he is smiling at his sister despite the statement that had almost sounded like a crisis in trust approaching.  
“Of course not,” Slaine can hear Yuki admit, somewhat placated already, and slightly sullen, “I was saying it’s not reassuring when in such a risky move, not all participants are sure they will succeed.”

“I don’t like making promises I can’t keep,” Slaine says, quietly, directed at all of the people present, but still looking at Inaho. Part of him is daring Inaho to go back on this idea, opt for the safer route of picking one of his friends for the job, but part of him is convinced he will not. He thinks of the instances Inaho had referenced, and it is undeniable that indeed they had been in sync, but each time it had been born out of animosity and desperation. How it would translate into a controlled, timed manoeuvre, he doubts that either Inaho without his Analytical Engine or him without Tharsis can predict with certainty. And still, Inaho is as calm and convinced in his demeanour as always.

 “Then don’t,” is all Inaho has to say to that, before addressing the others again. “You’ve made clear you don’t trust him entirely, and two members of the Clydesdale Platoon are still unaware of his identity, so having him tag along with you would not be advisable. It makes more sense to leave you as a well-rehearsed team to cover our backs. I have the most experience fighting alongside him, after all.”  
“You mean, _against,_ ” Captain Magbaredge corrects, but Inaho remains unimpressed.  
“Both.” 

He only really realises it when he feels all eyes in the room on him at a sudden, the soft sounds of amusement almost bordering on genuine laughter coming from his mouth, and he clears his throat quickly.  
“My apologies. It’s just...” Slaine understands there is nothing that will excuse him laughing at Inaho describing their previous encounters, and he lets the sentence fizzle out in the room, keeping his eyes trained on the map on the table without really taking in what he has long since remembered. “Nevermind.”  
“I’ve already compiled a list for the mechanics and logistics,” Inaho uses the pause to continue his planning, completely ignoring the awkward atmosphere, “and would forward it to the docks with your approval, Captain.” 

“I think you wouldn’t listen to me even if I had reservations, General Kaizuka, so go ahead,” Captain Magbaredge replies with an arched brow.  
“Great, then if there are no more questions, I suggest we move out as soon as preparations are completed.”  
Slaine can tell by the looks on the others’ faces that there are in fact still a lot of questions, just the kind that everyone already knows they will not like to hear Inaho’s answers to. It is something he can understand quite well.

  

“You surprised me,” he says later when he is following Inaho down to the docks, and Inaho looks almost disappointed.  
“I thought it was obvious. There’s probably no-one you study as closely in their combat techniques as your enemy, right?”  
Slaine thinks of when he had been planning the trap set up to kill Kaizuka Inaho back in the orbit, entirely reliant on the other’s over-boarding confidence and ability to manoeuvre through the battles to where Slaine wanted to have him, lured in by their mutual longing for a one-on-one confrontation. It would have been impossible without knowing Inaho’s techniques, and the only reason he had failed to eliminate him had been the interference of Inaho’s comrades, a factor he had not considered given the other’s behaviour before, shutting down communication channels and all back on Tanegashima. He had underestimated the back-up Inaho truly had had, but other than that, his assessment had been correct.  
“Yes,” he admits, and Inaho smiles.  
“Then there’s nothing you should be surprised at. Though, I guess you won’t be too happy with this.” 

He is about to ask what that is supposed to mean when they step into the hangar, and he instantly knows.  
“If we have to be up to the same speed, it’s more advisable we use the same model. Since this is a training base, they thankfully had some in stock, given my previous one is also beyond quick repair.”  
Slaine sighs in defeat, regretting ever having said anything on the matter. Granted, at that point in time he had been sure neither of them would survive their exchange, but still. He decides not to give Inaho the gratification of another complaint, and walks down the hall to where the two orange trainer frames are being worked on. They look like twins from the outside, the only visible markers of difference being the identification numbers painted onto them, but he knows that one of them would have the screens repositioned because of Inaho’s handicap.

“How’s the progress?” Inaho calls up when they are standing in front of them, and there is first a thump and then a muffled curse from the cockpit before Calm emerges, rubbing the back of his head and climbing down to meet them on eye level.  
“We’ve been working on remodelling what you asked for non-stop, but we can’t work magic. Give us another two hours,” he complains to his friend, before turning towards Slaine. “I suppose now it makes sense your unit was logged in under Inaho’s ID before, I was wondering what that was about, actually.”  
“I was hoping nobody would notice,” Inaho interjects.  
“I don’t know what you think of us guys working here, but we’re not stupid.” 

Calm pouts, but accepts Inaho’s very dry “Sorry”. Slaine wonders if people despairing over Inaho casually insulting them by accident is an integral part to being friends with him, and wonders where that would put him. Then again, Inaho seems to insult him on purpose often enough, too.  
“Anyway, I wanted to say it’s the same for the new one, and I changed settings to Vers standards again as requested. All that’s different is weight class and the resulting speed of movement and so on and so on, but I’m sure you’ve got that worked out already, being an alleged ace pilot and whatnot,” he continues, and Slaine bows slightly.  
“Thank you very much.” 

The other frowns at him, back to rubbing his head.  
“No need to be so formal about this. If you fail, all of us will be in trouble, after all, so make sure you come back victorious.”  
“We will,” Inaho assures, and Calm sighs.  
“Also, during a break earlier I had a look at that aircraft they retrieved along with the Kataphraktoi. I can’t believe you actually got that thing to move again with the damage it took, that’s some skill you have there.”  
“All Vers pilots are required to learn how to take care of makeshift repairs, given that our resources are sparse and valuable,” Slaine explains, feeling a bit uncomfortable at this sudden praise, “I was lucky the main engine had not been damaged, so by overriding the electronic systems I was able to still get it in the air manually.” 

“That’s even more impressive,” Calm punches him in the arm, and Slaine assumes it is meant to be affectionate, “and I actually think Inaho could learn something from you in this regard. Tell me again, how many frames have you used up to now? Is that your eighth?”  
“Seventh,” Inaho corrects him, and Slaine cannot hold back a laugh. “There’s a reason we mass-produce them, so-”  
“ _Kataphraktoi can be rebuild, human life cannot_ ”, Slaine quotes jokingly, and Calm looks back and forth between them, confused.  
“Exactly. If I can take out the enemy by destroying the Kataphrakt, I’ll take the chance and try to get off in time. And of course I know I can rely on the mechanics here to help me if I get into trouble for it.” 

It is simple bait, and obviously Calm notices it, yet still takes it anyway.  
“Yeah, yeah, leave it to us. We’ll make sure you have the right equipment to take out that guy, and I’ll contact you as soon as we’re finished. As for now, just try to come back in one piece this time, you hear me?”  
Calm gives them both a pat on the shoulder before returning to his post. 

When Slaine follows Inaho back to their room to change into the pilot suits, he wonders if it was genuine concern for his well-being, too, that had been voiced, and tries not to think about how much he wishes there truly would be a place he could return to once all of this was over.


	21. Vs/059 : Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“The message won’t come in sooner if you check you pager every five seconds, you know.”_   
>  _Inaho looks up from his phone and sees Slaine looking down at him, obviously mockingly. He had already changed into the pilot gear while Inaho had finished typing out his strategy to forward to the Captain for additional briefing of the other crew members, and Inaho thinks the other probably is looking for a distraction before the fight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which trust is voiced._

“The message won’t come in sooner if you check you pager every five seconds, you know.”  
Inaho looks up from his phone and sees Slaine looking down at him, obviously mockingly. He had already changed into the pilot gear while Inaho had finished typing out his strategy to forward to the Captain for additional briefing of the other crew members, and Inaho thinks the other probably is looking for a distraction before the fight.  
“But that way there’s no chance I might miss it, either,” he replies, reaching out to readjust some of the security belts again. If they were just slightly mispositioned, they could do more harm than good in case of an impact, and Slaine lets him proceed with resigned patience.

“It’s not like they can start without you,” he says with a smile, stepping back to give Inaho space to stand up himself once Inaho deemed the job done, “so you should probably get ready, too.”  
Inaho agrees in silence, even though he usually tries avoiding changing form more comfortable clothes into a pilot suit as long as possible, and starts unbuttoning his jacket. Shrugging it off as usual is difficult, with his neck and shoulders still sore, and to his surprise, he suddenly feels the garment being pulled back by different hands.

“Thank you,” he states, turning back to see Slaine carefully fold up the jacket over his arm with a shrug.  
“Years spent as a servant to nobility leave marks.” He smiles wryly. “Even though I have to say that the standardised gloves of the Kataphrakt gear here do not quite go with the butler image as much as those I wore back in the day.”  
“Why did you not remain in the palace as a servant to the Emperor?” Inaho asks, working on his tie and shirt, and Slaine seems to find something of great interest on the blue fabric in his hands instead of looking at him at that question. 

“Her Highness personally asked the late Count Cruhteo to take me in, since his family has always been among the most trusted vassals to the Emperor. She thought letting me return to Earth would be the best option for me, seeing how much resentment I faced on Vers.”  
“Was it better?”  
“It was, and it wasn’t,” Slaine gives as a vague reply. “I wasn’t treated in any way worse than I was on Vers, but she wasn’t there. And I wonder what is more cruel, to have something completely out of sight or seemingly just out of reach.”

Inaho wonders for a second whether Slaine referred to Earth beyond the orbit, or to Asseylum in her role as the Princess of Vers, but then thinks that maybe it was both, each planet having something he adored and longed for, yet could never call his. 

“I can’t say much about how good of a servant you make, but you certainly did well as a leader,” he offers instead, and Slaine seems to be shaken by something, soundlessly, but if it is amusement or regret, Inaho cannot determine without seeing the other’s face clearly. When he speaks, his voice is composed as usual, however.  
“Better than you, probably, minus your success rate.”  
“I’ve never aimed to become a leader, and I’m still willing to let someone else take that position,” Inaho insists.  
“I noticed with the Captain, yes. But you obviously enjoy the generous amount of leeway your position gives you regardless.”  
“It does make things easier, admittedly. I probably wouldn’t have been able to get you on this mission otherwise, for example.” 

“I’m still confused you consider that a success,” Slaine sighs, when something seems to catch his attention. Inaho watches in confusion as the other reaches into the folds of fabric still draped over his arm, but remembers the moment Slaine’s fingers pull the amulet from the pocket where he had kept it ever since their exchange.  
Slaine remains silent for a while, focussing on the item in his hand, and Inaho continues dressing. It is only when he is already almost finished that Slaine seems to wake up from his trance, putting the jacket down on Inaho’s bed and extending the amulet towards him. 

“My father said it’s a charm supposed to protect the person wearing it,” he explains earnestly, “so you should keep it close to you.”  
“It’s yours, so if you believe in its powers, you should wear it for this mission,” Inaho disagrees, but Slaine shakes his head with one of this odd smiles.  
“I’ve already died, I’m no longer in need of divine protection. I’ll be fine, but this mission depends on you. Keep it.”

Inaho hesitates for one more second, then reaches out and watches as Slaine drops the pendant into his hand. It is a familiar weight, and yet it feels strange, receiving it from the original owner with permission.  
“Let’s hope it works for both of us, then.”  
“You said we could do it, so I’m certain you’re right, as always.”

Inaho smiles in return, carefully stashing the amulet with his remaining equipment. It would take the spot that had previously been held by Yuki’s note and then Asseylum’s necklace, a reminder that he is fighting for more than himself or just a mere order, but for people he wishes to protect. This piece of jewellery connected him to the two people who he had been hunting for in this war more than any other, and no matter if it truly held protective abilities or not, in the end, it had brought luck to him. Part of his mission this time would also be to protect Slaine from dying, once more, along with everyone else on the team, and he can use any support he can get for that.

 

 They are both restless, Slaine pacing the cabin from time to time, hands clasped behind his back, and Inaho sitting in his bunk, staring at the small black case that he kept along with his Kataphrakt gear. He tries to imagine the consequences should a breach of his agreement with the council such as he considers doing ever be brought up to them, but then again, he probably had bent enough regulations as it is, anyway, and in the end, what matters is to try and ensure safety. The one he would put at immediate risk would be himself, and he can handle that.  
“Slaine,” he calls out, deciding to trust his intuition that it would go well, and the other stops, turning towards him expectantly. “It’s not a protective charm per se, but since we might get into close contact with the enemy, I think you should have this.”  
Slaine’s eyes drop to the firearm Inaho extends to him, grip turned his way, and Inaho can see him freeze in his spot.

“It’s part of a standard mission gear, so-”  
“I’m certain you shouldn’t even think of handing me this,” Slaine interrupts him curtly.  
“It’s no different from you having weapons available with your Kataphrakt,” Inaho argues.  
“Yes, it is, and you know why.”  
Slaine reaches out in a sudden movement, taking the gun from Inaho’s hands, and for a second, it is a déjà-vu experience of staring down a barrel, Slaine’s narrowed eyes on him. Then, Slaine lowers the gun.

“I trust you not to use it against anyone here, but only for self-defence in the unlikely case we should get in trouble after all,” Inaho states, observing closely as Slaine checks the ammunition with obvious practiced movements. While Vers handguns are different in design, the overall mechanics are the same, Inaho knows that much, and even if his beating heart is telling otherwise, he is also aware of the fact that Slaine is perfectly capable of killing someone at point blank range. He wonders why it is that somehow, it feel so much more difficult to trust him with a small weapon compared to the damage he could potentially do with a fully armed Kataphrakt should he ever turn against him, but it probably is because their encounters somehow had always come down to his, an unmasked duel, face to face. 

Slaine double-checks the safety to Inaho’s relief, and stashes the weapon in thigh holster attached to the security belts.  
“Your friends won’t approve,” he says, and Inaho knows what he means is that they will not understand.  
“You could have killed me before, but you didn’t. I trust you to use this as ultima ratio should you find yourself in trouble, and nothing else. I’m not usually wrong.”  
“That, you aren’t.”  
Inaho’s phone announces a new message, and Slaine’s smile fades as he watches Inaho read it.  
“They’ve finished preparations, we can leave anytime now,” Inaho confirms, getting up and gathering his remaining supplies, including his own weapon. 

“Inaho.”  
It is the first time he has heard nothing but his first name from Slaine’s lips, and Inaho knows enough about Versian etiquette by now to be sure it is not just by accident. He turns his head to see Slaine is still observing him, earnestly.  
“I wish you success on the battlefield,” is all he says, before walking past him towards the door, and Inaho has to hurry to catch up with him before they reach the docks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> “I wish you success on the battlefield” is a more close-to-origin translation to the sub’s “Good Hunting”. Next chapter will be double length again _(:3 」∠)
> 
> _vii. shock value_
> 
> _“Let me.”_
> 
> _“Again?”_
> 
> _Slaine groans inwardly and stands still, legs apart to give Inaho better access._
> 
> _“It’s not my fault your Versian training lacked in this department in particular. What’s so hard about learning to use buckles?”_
> 
> _“Shut up and get it over with quickly. Or do you want more of Nina’s commentary?”_
> 
> _Inaho’s hand freezes for a second, and then he continues in the same tempo._
> 
> _“If I wanted to shock Nina, I’d have tried harder.”_


	22. Vs/060 : Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You look confident as always,” Inko sighs, “what makes you so sure this will work?”_   
>  _“My left eye told me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a plan is carried out._

Slaine tilts his head back to stare up at the expressionless head of the Kataphrakt in front of him and wonders why he feels more animosity towards it than he had ever towards Tharsis. Both had belonged to someone walking the oddly thin line of being his enemy and protector, and on the outside, both are perfectly fine instruments of war he should not mind using. Yet, at the same time he cannot help the feeling that the unusual colour alone will make him seem to be a second Kaizuka Inaho to the other soldiers unaware of their circumstances, and he is not sure if the thought is flattering, insulting, or anything in between.

“Just so you know,” a familiar female voice cuts through his thoughts with unrestrained energy, “I’ll make this a one-time exception because of the numbers and your special task.”  
“Excuse me?” he asks, turning towards Inko, who tries her best to stare him down despite being a head shorter than he is, and he hopes with urgency she will not notice the addition to his gear.  
“Double zero,” she explains, pointing past his shoulder at the Kataphrakt, and he remembers that Inaho’s unit bears a thirty-three this time.  
“I really don’t insist on changing identification,” he assures her, bringing his hands up, but she narrows her eyes at him, slightly.

“We’ll keep your backs out of trouble, but you’re the only one going down there with Inaho, so it’s up to you to keep him safe. As insane as that is,” she adds, a bit sheepishly, but not with anger behind her words, but concern, and Slaine feels himself smile. “So, live up to his old position and win this, alright? If you fail, I really will kick your ass next time we meet!”  
“Thank you,” Slaine says, and they both know that if he was to fail, all she would get to kick would be whatever remains would be left of him. But since every fight before had been life-or-death, this is nothing different, and defeat never an option to truly be considered. Slaine had cheated this result once, just as Inaho, and he is sure neither of them would be able to do it ever again.

“You should get ready, Inko, Slaine.”  
Inaho approaches them at that moment, returning from his final conversation with Captain Marito and his squad. The ship is already flying towards their destination, the faintest trace of movement still reverberating in Slaine’s very bones, and he feels his heartbeat pick up slightly at the impending battle.  
“You look confident as always,” Inko sighs, “what makes you so sure this will work?”  
“My left eye told me.”  
“Your left eye? But you don’t-”

Inaho just smiles with a shrug before turning towards his unit, leaving a bewildered Inko looking up in question at Slaine, who only shakes his head.  
“Let’s finish this,” Inaho says, his gaze focussed and unrelenting as he activates the rope lifting him up to the cockpit, and Slaine does not doubt his words for a second. Either way, their mission together would end with this, it only remains to be seen whether it would so in glory, or in catastrophe.

 

The movement is indeed different, Slaine notes the moment he brings the Sleipnir unit to a halt, surveying his environment on the small, mostly monochrome screens that are still a major setback to him from the technology of Skycarriers and Tharsis. They are just outside the firing range of the Landing Castle, as indeed it seems the Count no longer has the airforce at the ready in order to attack them even en route, or maybe he, too wants them as close to home as possible for this confrontation.

Slaine can only guess as to why this man prefers to fight to the bitter end, risking the lives of his subordinates for no reason now that the outcome of the war is already settled, but at the same time he knows he cannot criticise him without falling victim to hypocrisy. Death in war is cheap, but excluding active suicide, peace leaves few opportunities for Knights of Vers to die as what they consider honourable. Maybe that is all he is after, Slaine thinks, and despite the Empress’ hopes to settle this peacefully, he wonders if they should just grant the man this wish.

 _“No movement from the Landing Castle yet, stay alert,”_ the Captain’s voice announces, and Slaine takes a deep breath, tentatively moving the unit’s right arm with its additional weight.

 _There’s no way you can guarantee equal force of impact,_ he had argued with Inaho after he had casually named him to be his partner in this undertaking, e _ven if you get the timing right, without directly linking the units, a strike will be different depending on angle and start-up and anchor point and-_  
_You’re correct,_ Inaho had interrupted him calmly, _the only way to guarantee a synced attack of equal force is by employing a pre-determined impact set off at the same time._  
_You’re talking explosives,_ Slaine had drawled, and Inaho had nodded in appreciation.  
_Yes, but that doesn’t negate the fact that we have to be attacking at the exact same moment. If we only attach them to his unit, there’s no doubt even a fraction of a delay will result in him catching on to our plan and use it against us._  
_Literally blowing up your genius plan in our faces, yes,_ Slaine had commented dryly, but Inaho had only shrugged.  
_The solution to that is easy. Don’t be late, Slaine._

 _“Are you adjusting?”_ Inaho asks in that moment, and Slaine wonders if he is imagining the teasing undertone or if Inaho truly had the nerve to make such petty fun of him in this situation. His voice is level and calm as usual, and Slaine takes it as a sign he has spent too much time with this person already that he still thinks he can discern the slight changes of tone even above the static and metallic distortion of the intercom.  
“Stay focussed, Inaho” he replies, stilling his unit, and turning his attention to the side monitors. He can make out Yuki’s, Rayet’s and Inko’s Kataphraktoi to his right, and Marito’s squad of three along with Inaho slightly further away to his left. They had split into two groups for the moment, each with four members, in order to lure the enemy into thinking that just as the day before, they would be going for a simple pincer attack from both sides with guns, getting them close enough for Inaho and Slaine to make an attempt at direct contact. A simple trap, and excellent for that very reason.

 _“Mustang 00, is everything alright?”_  
It is Yuki’s voice, and she sounds actually worried. Slaine wants to tell her that he is the last person she should worry about, but with no private channels, he knows he cannot do that.  
“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” he says instead, “I’m only keen on finishing this quickly.”  
“ _You’re not the only one,”_ Rayet offers dryly, and Slaine sees her unit shift slightly. _“It might just be heat reflection against the horizon, or is tha-”  
“We have confirmed movement,” _ the Captain cuts her short at that second, and Slaine tightens his hands around the controls.

 _“On your command, then, Kaizuka Junior,”_ Captain Marito says, and in the same moment that the static gives way to Inaho’s voice, Slaine can make out the movement in the distance, speeding towards them from the looming shadow in the distance that is so very familiar to him.  
_“Mustang Leader to all units, spread out as planned and open fire once target is in firing rage. Do try to keep your hits to a minimum.”_  
_“Roger!”_  
The shout of the six soldiers cuts into the stillness of the afternoon as Slaine mutters under his breath to himself, almost inaudible and nothing but a ritual of days long past: “Slaine Troyard, heading out for battle.”

 _“Make sure you stay behind us until you get a clear path,”_ Yuki instructs, picking up speed, and Slaine falls into pace easily.  
“Understood, Clydesdale 11,” he replies, retrieving the rifle and switching to the left hand, to at least maintain the illusion that this is nothing but another ballistic assault.  
_“You know, this is odd,”_ Rayet states, catching up to his side, _“I’ve never thought about it, but actually, having a second trainer unit is a very good decoy in the case someone has already heard about Inaho. We should have used that in the war.”_  
“Rayet!” Inko protests, _“Don’t make it sound as if he’s in more danger than he already is!”_  
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Slaine agrees, remembering just in time to mind his words, “the enemy most definitely had his eyes on that specific unit form the beginning of his victory streak. Another pilot would only have gotten caught in the crossfire.”

 _“Well, if_ you _say so.”_  
Rayet brings her unit to a stop, taking shooting stance, and Slaine sees the third Clydesdale unit mirror her stance across the plain as the rear guard.  
“ _He’s right,”_ Inaho says lightly, “ _even though I didn’t intend to be a decoy so much as maybe unsettle some of our opponents with the knowledge that we had beaten their likes before and that I was still alive despite everything.”_  
_“Inaho! This is no time to chat away!”_  
Inko sounds exasperated, and Slaine swallows his comment about Inaho being ridiculously resilient, turning is attention towards where he now can make out the solid shapes of the Vers Kataphrakt, without a scratch form yesterday’s battle, advancing at high speed.

 _“Clydesdale Leader speaking, everyone get ready to engage!”_  
_“Misaiming on purpose still feels wrong,”_ Yuki complains the same moment Slaine sees her raise her weapon and fire, the bullet seemingly narrowly missing the Kataphrakt, sending a cloud of red dust up from the ground instead.  
_“As long as you don’t hit your brother or me, Kaizuka, that’s fine,”_ Captain Marito states, in turn taking an equally bad shot, _”And no-one else of this task force, now that I think about it.”_  
A slight oscillation on the screens catches Slaine’s eye, and he knows the effect instantly, even though it feels odd to experience it from this angle.  
“He’s activating the Aldnoah Drive” he warns, searching out Inaho’s frame on the opposite side, and despite whatever Inaho had said, at least their movement now is not at all synced up, Inaho’s Kataphrakt moving with a smoothness that spoke of years of him piloting this model.

 _“Let him come then!”_ Inko declares resolutely, and as if it had waited for her invitation, he Kataphrakt comes to a sudden halt, arms in positions to shield both sides of the apparent impending attack, bullets still missing the metal frame by hair’s breadth.  
_“This is Clydesdale 33, taking a real shot,”_ he hears a male voice, and only seconds later, Slaine feels a singular bullet whiz by from direction of the Kataphrakt.  
_“At least we now know you were correct, General,”_ the soldier states, and Inaho does not even hesitate a second before replying naturally: _“Of course.”_  
_“Alright, we don’t have much time,”_ Captain Marito glosses over the immodest reply, _“We’ll open fire with the light armoury, do your best to avoid the angle of the shields. Kaizuka Junior, you two move as quickly as possible, but if anything should go wrong-”_  
_“Promise you’ll pull back immediately!”_ Yuki urges.

Slaine sees Inaho’s unit pull to a stop, and follows suit, both of them level with the Kataphrakt a good four hundred metres away from their positions.  
_“I promise,”_ Inaho says, earnestly, and then: _“Mustang Leader to all units, commence operation!”_  
The Count had been waiting for this, Slaine knows that the instant the firing starts again, and he dives to the side to dodge the bullets he knows to be fuelled by friendly fire, while trying to maintain a line of sight with Inaho.  
_“Avoiding the angle is all fine in theory,”_ the voice of the other Clydesdale member pipes up, _“but he keeps shifting too quickly, Sir!”_  
_“Our Kataphraktoi can take a few bullets, don’t worry,”_ the Captain replies, but Slaine knows that everyone is anxious to get out of their position as decoys on the verge of inadvertently executing one another.

He makes a swift turn to avoid another shower of bullets headed his way, and pulls forward, beginning to bridge the distance to the enemy. Slaine does not have to check to know Inaho is with him, the same urgency of trying to prevent his team members get hurt spurring him on.  
_“Are you ready, bat?”_ Inaho asks, clearly not referring to his mental state, and Slaine huffs, the command for the release of the explosive package strapped beneath the apparent shielding of his unit’s arm already pre-set ever since he had boarded the Kataphrakt.  
“Ready at your sign, orange,” he replies, dodging a bullet to his left. Inaho had not been lying about the Sleipnir being quicker due to the lighter weight, and Slaine gains another few metres of ground, and with a sudden surge of adrenaline he realises just how tall the enemy really is up close.

This truly is the experience of fighting a different class of enemy, and it still feels different from the confrontation with Hellas. Just what delusions of grandeur and invincibility had enabled Inaho to challenge Vers Kataphraktoi despite this obvious imbalance in power, he cannot even fathom.  
“Watch out, he might have additional weapons in the shielding, as Tharsis had blades,” he warns, shifting his route again, circling closer to the Kataphrakt’s back.  
_“I wasn’t even aware of that,”_ Inaho replies in an oddly conversational tone, and Slaine sees his unit zig-zag between the lines of fire seemingly without problems, firing what Slaine knows to be blanks just as in his own weapon, “ _you didn’t use them on me.”  
_ “It was too late, then,” Slaine says, the conversation keeping him focussed on Inaho’s movements as he loses sight of him on the other side of the metal frame only metres in front of him.

 _“It won’t be now.”_  
“In position,” Slaine declares, and the Counts’s Kataphrakt turns slightly towards him. A former ally, he thinks, dropping the pretence of firing and bringing up his unit’s right arm.  
_“In position,”_ Inaho replies, and Slaine can see it without visual confirmation, a mirror to his own movements. A former enemy, he thinks, accelerating once more.  
_“Go!”_

 

The moment metal connects with metal and he releases the command on the explosive, Slaine already senses the millisecond of discrepancy.  
We must have missed, he thinks, with a feeling of detached regret.  
The force of impact thrown back at his unit is enough to shred the Kataphrakt’s right arm to pieces, the stomach-turning sound of steel breaking reverberating in his ears as the entire frame shakes with the violent force. The immediately following blast knocks him back metres before he can even think of digging his heels into the soil and charging again, trying to get a shot at point blank with his backup rifle somewhere the shield does not reach, and it takes until there is an angry red flashing warning on one of the many screens that he realises he has gotten caught in an explosion, the centre of which is the Versian Kataphrakt.

His unit topples over and crashes, inertia throwing him against the security belts and instruments, and there is a sudden surge of pain in his left hand, enough to make him hiss between his teeth as he tries to regain his orientation.

 _“-is eve-”_  
_“-m fin-”_  
_“-t yo-”_  
Static mangles the bits and pieces of words into unintelligible noise, and the screens have mostly fallen dark around him. Through the echo of the impact before that is still throbbing in his head, he cannot tell if the firing outside has stopped, but the part of his that has been trained in years of warfare tells him to get up and moving this instance before he becomes collateral on either side.

With a groan, Slaine turns to the mechanical opening control of the cockpit, the deformed metal of the hull sliding apart with an ugly sound. He manages to release the seat belts one handedly, removing the inflated airbag collar from his neck and pulling himself up to the edge of the Kataphrakt’s front that is now facing upwards from what his sense of gravity is telling him. Though, at the moment he severely doubts if that is to be trusted, as he struggles to get to his footing on the uneven metallic surface, squinting against the haze of smoke and dust clouding out the light of the sun low on the horizon.

He finds himself amidst a crater littered with shrapnel of metal, smouldering remains of his unit metres away from the source of the explosion, the Versian Kataphrakt, both shields heavily damaged and thrown off balance as well. Every breath stings in his lungs, the air hot and raspy in his throat, and then, he spots the movement from the corner of his eyes.


	23. Vs/061 : Redress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Inaho releases the command in the same instant he feels a greater force push back on him already, and the only thought that manages to form in his mind the moment before he is thrown back in the explosion is how odd it would be if after all of his history in the war, he should find his death at the hands of Slaine Troyard after all, on UFE battlegrounds, by the same type of Kataphrakt that had protected him all the years before._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a situation mirrors itself._

“ _In position,”_ he hears Slaine announce, and the Kataphrakt seems about to turn his attention towards Slaine’s unit.  
Inaho decides not to take the chance that his opponent might have additional weapons, what matters now is to act as quick as possible. He drops the rifle, hauling off to strike, left hand ready to issue the command for the explosives to detonate.  
“In position,” Inaho reaffirms, and he knows he can trust Slaine to have stuck to their plan. Distance to the enemy, acceleration, speed of the strike, variables he cannot control but has to trust blindly. But now, there is no going back.  
“Go!” he orders, moving forward the same instance, settling on his aim. 

The fire of the back-up squad ceases the moment he charges, and even though he cannot see it, he can almost picture the Kataphrakt on the other side moving as well. The Count seems to catch on to the events a split second before Inaho’s hit lands, shield shifting beneath the metal of his unit in an attempt to pull away, but it is too late for that. Inaho releases the command in the same instant he feels a greater force push back on him already, and the only thought that manages to form in his mind the moment before he is thrown back in the explosion is how odd it would be if after all of his history in the war, he should find his death at the hands of Slaine Troyard after all, on UFE battlegrounds, by the same type of Kataphrakt that had protected him all the years before.

The moment of almost fond reminiscence vanishes once his rational side assesses the situation a heartbeat later, his hands moving over the controls automatically, steadying the frame as it is pushed back, keeping it barely from keening over.  
_“Nao, is everything alright?!”_  
“I’m fine,” he replies before he really has sorted out whether he actually is, but there is no blood clouding his vision this time, and he is still standing, somehow, surrounded by smoke and debris, which is good. “What about you?”  
_“We’re doing great, though Minamoto has taken some damage,”_ Marito supplies, followed up by a rather pained _“Don’t worry, I’ll live, General”_ by his subordinate.  
_“What’s your situation? We can hardly see anything with that smoke,”_ Rayet asks. 

“No present movement from the enemy Kataphrakt.” Inaho moves slightly to the side, scanning the surroundings, and he spots Slaine’s Kataphrakt thrown on its back and heavily damaged.  
_“What about-”  
_ “I’ll check,” he cuts Inko off with a sudden surge of worry, crossing over to the wreck in a few hurried steps across a ground littered with scrap metal. He is not sure what he had expected to find, but the moment he spots the opened cockpit, a feeling of of dread settles in.

In the middle of the desert, there is nowhere for a wounded man to run, and if running is not what could possibly be Slaine’s aim, what is left is potentially worse. Inaho reacts without thinking, lowering the unit to the ground and exiting, his shoulders and neck protesting against the strain after two traumata in less than 48 hours as he jumps the remaining distance to the ground, rolling to break the fall, before getting up to his feet instantly, running towards the Martian Kataphrakt.  
“Please contact the Deucalion to land and collect us,” he instructs, short of breath, his head throbbing with the exertion, and he is not listening to the responses that follow as he can make out the two diminutive figures next to the wreck, obscured by the dust and smoke, still, but he already knows what he will see.

 

In some twisted way, it feels as if he is looking into a distorting mirror of two previous encounters, only he is not part of it this time, one cowering on the ground, one taking aim in calm sovereignty.  
“What are you doing?” he calls out, the taste of burned ash settling uncomfortably on his tongue, but Slaine does not even turn his head.  
“Preventing your prisoner from escaping,” he states, and as Inaho catches up to Slaine’s side, a stitch forcing him to measure his breaths, he can make out the enemy up close now, a tall figure deceptively small in crouching, the tell-tale red uniform covered in dust and soot.

“It doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere,” Inaho protests, nothing that Slaine’s finger rests on the trigger and not on the side of the weapon.  
“He is a threat to Her Highness, so I intended to make sure.”  
Inaho feels himself tense up, and he fights down the instinct to draw his own weapon.  
“You’re not thinking of-” 

“Your voice,” Inaho finds himself interrupted by a pressed voice, and he turns his attention again to the man on the ground, looking up at them now, dark eyes narrowed at Slaine, “I know you, you’re Count Saazbaum’s-”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Slaine shuts him down, voice calm but with such an icy and stern authority to it that Inaho cannot help but stare in surprise. “That person you’re thinking of burned up in the atmosphere at the end of the war.”  
There is a second of stunned silence, and then the man chuckles, a weirdly misplaced sound promptly followed by a cough and laboured breathing. If Inaho had to do an amateur assessment, he would assume that multiple of his ribs are fractured on both sides due to the double impact.  
“I see. I beg your pardon then, I must have mistaken you for someone else.” 

The man’s tone is insincere, and Inaho reaches out instinctively, closing his hand around Slaine’s arm.  
“Don’t,” he warns, but Slaine does not look his way, yet. “Asseylum wouldn’t want you kill people needlessly.”  
He can feel Slaine’s arm tremble just slightly at the mention of her name, but he keeps his aim straight.  
“Surrender unconditionally,” Slaine demands, and it is a leader’s command. “I don’t care if you wish to die here, but give the order to surrender to your soldiers first. You’ve spilt enough of their blood already on this mission.” 

“If you want me to express remorse, I won’t.”  
The Count straightens his posture as much as his current position allows, tilting his head back and staring up defiantly at Slaine.  
“I know,” he replies evenly.  
“You’ve lost,” Inaho declares, tightening his hold on Slaine’s arm as a warning. “Accept it and I will guarantee your and your crew’s survival.”  
“You would kill me,” the Count says, ignoring Inaho, still keeping his attention on Slaine. It is not a question, and Slaine’s answer obvious.  
“I would. Do you really think this is worth dying for?” 

Inaho remembers the way Slaine had looked, back when he had refused to take the final shot and instead just kept him in place, waiting for back-up to arrive to take him into custody.  
_You’re not going to kill me? Why do you refuse to let me die, despite everything?  
_ Inaho had not given him an answer back then, and the expression of confusion and betrayal on Slaine’s face is not something that Inaho will ever forget. Refusing to give someone the ending they had wished fro in that moment is cruel to an extent, he knows that much, and he wonders what Slaine will choose as a verdict in this situation.

The man opens his mouth, reluctantly, but Slaine continues.  
“This is a new age, Count. The values of the old Empire will only take you so far. Trust me, you will live to regret sacrificing more lives than necessary here.”  
“What an odd Terran soldier you are.” The Count smiles, again, half in pain, half in appreciation. “I no longer have a connection. Get me a contact link, and I will issue the surrender of my Clan. You have fought valiantly.” 

Inaho feels the vibrations of the other Kataphraktoi advancing towards them.  
“Bat,” he says, quietly, and for the first time in this situation, Slaine turns to look at him directly. “It’s over.”  
For a few seconds, Slaine looks at him with an expression Inaho cannot decipher, but then he feels the arm in his grip relax as Slaine lowers it.  
“I didn’t think you would be worried about taking people’s life on the battlefield”, Slaine states, sounding curious.  
“I’m not,” Inaho agrees, carefully prying the weapon from Slaine’s hand, who offers no resistance. “I’m worried about the consequences for you should you do it in this case.” 

_“This is Captain Marito of the United Forces speaking,”_ the transmission via speaker interrupts them, “ _By authority of the Alliance between the United Forces and the Vers Empire you are put under arrest.”_  
“Let’s go,” Inaho says, pulling Slaine with him as he steps back , “let them handle this.”  
Slaine complies, and it is only now that he no longer is on the edge that Inaho notes the other looks to be in pain.  
“Are you alright?” Inaho inquires, and Slaine smiles, wearily.  
“I hurt my arm a little, otherwise, I’m fine. Thank you.”

They have almost passed the Captain’s Kataphrakt heading towards them when the Count calls out once more.  
“A Knight of Vers should not have regrets. It looks like you are in a good place, now, so, don’t.”  
Slaine halts in his movement for just a second.  
“I thank you, Count Geine” he then says, without turning back, and continues his path alongside Inaho, toward the Deucalion.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ED. 1st December 2015: The kindest [1300](http://archiveofourown.org/users/1300/pseuds/1300) drew a lovely art for this chapter which matches my layout for the scene amazingly well, you can find it [on twitter](https://twitter.com/vennieandroxie/status/662673696205639680/photo/1). Thank you so much _(:3 」∠)


	24. Vs/062 : Remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Would you have shot him if he had asked you to?” Inaho questions when they are walking up towards the door, and Slaine smiles._   
>  _“No,” he gives as an answer, and he cannot tell if Inaho believes him or not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which some things are fixed._

“Would you have shot him if he had asked you to?” Inaho questions when they are walking up towards the door, and Slaine smiles.  
“No,” he gives as an answer, and he cannot tell if Inaho believes him or not.

They have past the soldiers in the docks cheering on them for their victory, Inaho had had to practically pry his sister off him who had not seemed intent on letting go anytime soon, and someone had given Slaine a good-natured slap on the back that had all but sent him flying on the ground.  
 _"Great job, Flygehunder, Kaizuka,"_ they had said, time and time again, and after a few minutes, Slaine had given up trying to stop them.  
 _"Endure it_ ," Inaho had whispered, who had seemed about as comfortable with praise as Slaine had felt, minus the fake name and all its implications, maybe.  
He had managed to get them out of the masses in celebration mode by claiming he had to go fill in the Captain of the ship about the proceedings and contact the headquarters, but had taken a left turn on the corridor once they had been out of sight.

_"The bridge is that way,"_ Slaine had pointed out with a frown, leaning over to peer into Inaho’s face, " _did you get another concussion?"  
"Unlike you, I didn’t crash that badly, so no. I’ll drop you off at the medical bay, you look awful."  
"I’m fine,"_ Slaine had tried, but with little hope at success, and Inhao had dragged him along relentlessly.  
 _"I’ll discuss matters with the Captain, you see to getting yourself treated. I’ll pick you up later."_  
Slaine had given in to his inevitable fate, and they had walked in silence for a bit.

“You did well,” Inaho says out of nowhere, and Slaine blinks.  
“What?”  
“The plan worked, and that’s thanks to you,” Inaho continues, stopping at the door to the medical wing and entering the opening command on the panel at the side. “Thank you, Slaine.”  
“There’s no need for-,” Slaine disagrees the moment the doors open, and Inaho pushes him inside.  
“Doctor, please patch my Lieutenant up.”

Slaine sees a man emerge from one of behind a cabinet, looking them both over with a frown.  
“I told you to be careful, Inaho,” he sighs, and Inaho gives a shrug.  
“I’m fine. I need to talk to the Captain, so please have a look at him first.”  
Slaine feels a push between his shoulder blades and stumbles forward into the room. He does not have the opportunity to complain before the door closes, and all he can do is sigh.  
“Must be tough, working under someone that stubborn and reckless,” the Doctor says with a smile, indicating Slaine to take a seat on the examination table.

“I’m not really-” Slaine stops himself, but the man looks unperturbed.  
“I know,” he replies lightly, bringing up a flashlight to check Slaine’s pupil reaction, and Slaine freezes under his touch.  
“You know?”  
“The Captain told me,” the man continues, moving on to Slaine’s left eye, “consider it a part of doctor-patient-confidentiality.”  
He pulls back, and obviously notices Slaine’s confusion.  
“It’s alright, it makes no difference. If the holographic engine doesn’t conceal wounds, you an keep it activated if you want. I’m not sure how these things work, to be perfectly honest.”

Slaine nods as if in a trance, completely thrown off track by the lack of reaction. He had experienced outrage and plain betrayal at his presence in Inaho’s other friends and comrades, and he wonders if it is his work on the missions that has swayed others in his favour.  
“Are you in pain anywhere?”  
“My left hand hurts a little,” Slaine admits, and the Doctor reaches out, carefully removing the glove.

“Your hand looks swollen, yes,” he states, gently probing the bones of Slaine’s wrist, and only brushing over the back of Slaine’s hand. “Does this hurt?”  
“A little.”  
“Try making a fist.”  
Slaine complies, flinching at the stabbing pain and relaxing the muscles on instinct immediately.  
The Doctor frowns, and gets up.  
“We’ll need to take a radiograph of that, it might be broken. Did you have any recently?”

“Not since the end of the war,” Slaine answers, following the Doctor into an adjacent small chamber, letting himself be orchestrated to sit down on a stool and place his arm beneath an X-ray apparatus, palm flat on the surface. While Inaho had somehow managed to slow down their fall enough to prevent them from shattering upon impact, it had not been enough for them to remain entirely unharmed, nevermind the injuries he had sustained during their final duel before. Slaine had spent the first weeks of his imprisonment in a hospital wing, blurred memories of repeated surgery, extreme safety measures, and the smell of disinfectant.  
“Apart from that there’s of course the radiation in space in general.”  
“Ah, well, we’ve all been there,” the Doctor says en-passant, but before Slaine can ask, the heavy and cold weight of a lead vest is lowered on his shoulders. “Please don’t move, I’ll be back in a second.”

Slaine nods, and he hears the door shut, the audio warning of the machine activating following suit. The apparatus looks oddly ancient to him after all the time he had spent around Vers medical technology, but when the door opens again shortly after, and he returns to his seat on the examination table, the images on the computer screen are just as good as any.  
“As I thought, a clean fracture of a metacarpal. Putting it in a cast should do, can you please remove the sleeve on that side?”  
Slaine does as instructed, holding back a hiss as the rough fabric moves over his injured hand.  
“I can’t believe you didn’t notice that. It must hurt a lot.”  
The Doctor shakes his head in disbelief, rummaging through his cabinets for bandages and synthetic plaster.  
“I have a high threshold of pain.” The man stills in his movements, and Slaine quickly adds: “And I heal quickly, so this is not that bad.”

To his credit, the Doctor does not even for a second glance at where the first traces of the heavy scarring are visible just above Slaine’s shirt collar, but sighs and carefully wipes Slaine’s hand and forearm with disinfectant.  
“The recklessness of youth,” he then says, but it sounds almost affectionate. “You’re almost as bad as Inaho. Once I’m done with you, I’ll probably have to stitch him up again, won’t I. Do me a favour and tell him to take it easier next time.”  
Slaine watches in confusion as the man applies layers of bandage compresses and adhesive tape.  
“Me?”  
“That boy has a history of not doing what I say, but he seems more willing to listen to you from what I’ve heard.”

Slaine does not know what to reply to that, silently observing how the man now prepares the material for the splint. It feels oddly warm and heavy even through the layers of wound dressing as the Doctor starts to wrap the dark blue bands around his forearm and hand up to the tips of his fingers.  
“You mentioned you’ve been to the Orbit, too,” Slaine begins quietly, but the other does not look up from his work. “Does that mean you’ve been with this ship throughout all of the war?”  
“More or less, yes. I ended up with Captain Magbaredge’s group by coincidence, really, since I happened to work as a Doctor on the Shinawara military base which was evacuated by her forces. They drafted all civilians once Mars declared war on us, so I filled in the vacant position of the ship’s medical officer. The warmth will dissipate soon, don’t worry, but does it feel too tight anywhere?”  
Slaine shakes his head, and the man smiles at him before folding up the leftover ridges of the wound dressing over the sharp edges of the splint, fixing them in place, and continues his story.

“After the battle at the Russian headquarters I went to work in a field hospital for some time, but when I got word that the Deucalion was to be deployed for the most dangerous missions again, I rejoined the crew for personal reason, properly enlisting this time. I’m not much of a soldier myself, though.”  
“If you’ve been with them until the fight in Russia, then you’ve been the one who-,” Slaine begins, stopping mid-question unable to put into words what he already knows, anyway.  
“The one who rendered first aid to Inaho after you shot him? Yes.”  
The Doctor gently lowers Slaine’s arm on the surface of the movable table between them, and Slaine has to suppress the urge of clenching his fists.

“Then why are you like this with me?” he asks with a voice that sounds tired even to himself. He has been asking this question too many times in the past few days, and he has not asked it enough, still.  
“I’ve sworn an oath to help everyone in need of medical attention, no matter their origin and past deeds,” the Doctor replies earnestly, meeting Slaine’s eyes calmly, and there is not a trace of open resentment to be found. “As long as they aren’t an active threat to those I care about, I will try to help them. That’s also why once I’m finished with you two, I’ll be paying our new prisoner a visit. Captain Magbaredge already had me informed that man probably has a few broken ribs.”

“I know there’s certainly soldiers aboard this ship who have lost loved ones either directly to me or to orders I gave others,” Slaine says, as a matter of fact, and he sees the Doctor flinch slightly at his straightforwardness, “and you are the one who has to try and save those that survived with injuries, both physical and mental. I would have imagined people like you would probably hate me the most.”  
“I suppose I’m not someone who hates easily,” the man replies evenly, getting up and returning moments later with a cup of water and a blister pack of medicine. “Especially not someone who’s so young and obviously has been through a lot. Whatever it was, it doesn’t excuse your actions, but as a disciple of the psychosomatic medical field, I can also not disregard it entirely. I’m certain someone more qualified than me has done evaluations on your case already, but that doesn’t matter here. You fought for the sake of the people on this ship, and you got hurt in the process. There would be no reason for me to hesitate in treating you.”

Slaine takes the hint of extending his right palm as the Doctor pushes out one of the pills into his hand.  
“No matter how high your pain tolerance may be, it’s not necessary for you to suffer more than you have to,” he states, and Slaine complies with unspoken gratitude.  
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to do the check-ups where you’re going, but I trust someone will. I hope it’ll heal well.”  
“Thank you very much,” Slaine says, getting up and bowing. “For your help, for your support, and for your kindness.”

 

It is heartfelt, and extending to more than this person. Slaine wonders if he will have the opportunity to say it to all of them at some point, to those that had treated him with a level respect and acceptance he is not sure he deserves. On this ship, at the safe-house, in the military hospital before that, and within the walls of the Moon Base. Voicing genuine gratitude seems to be something one always remembers too late, Slaine thinks, and he knows that in some cases, he will never have the chance to do so, the people he wants to thank being long gone, nothing but a painful memory. In those that remain, it is a regret he swears he will never have again.


	25. Vs/063 : Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Aah, there you are.”_   
>  _Slaine turns to see Inaho walk over the main deck of the ship towards him. He is still wearing his Kat suit, but he has put on his pullover and uniform jacket atop of that, and from what Slaine can see, he had, despite the Doctor’s predictions, not been stitched or bandaged up more than before. He looks slightly ridiculous like this, but Slaine decides not to comment on it. He probably is not in the position to judge, with one sleeve of his suit removed, the other still in place._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which a second offer is made._

“Aah, there you are.”  
Slaine turns to see Inaho walk over the main deck of the ship towards him. He is still wearing his Kat suit, but he has put on his pullover and uniform jacket atop of that, and from what Slaine can see, he had, despite the Doctor’s predictions, not been stitched or bandaged up more than before. He looks slightly ridiculous like this, but Slaine decides not to comment on it. He probably is not in the position to judge, with one sleeve of his suit removed, the other still in place.  
“The Doctor told me to either rest or get some fresh air,” he explains, not doubting that Inaho had already learned of this condition from the man directly, “and I thought I’ll wait for further instructions here.”

“I see.”  
Inaho leans against the railing next to him, tilting his head back to look at the clear, cloudless autumn night sky Slaine had been observing just seconds ago.  
“Do you miss it?”  
Slaine does not have to ask to to know Inaho had singled out the bright red star in the distance as well, just one amongst many to most people most certainly, but not to either of them.  
“No,” he says, following the direction of Inaho’s gaze. “It’s a hostile and cold world. That’s how I remember it, and even if Her Highness might be able to change its fate of ruin for the better, I can’t forget that.”

“I want to see for myself, once,” Inaho states after a pause, quietly and more to himself.  
“I was lying.” Slaine closes his eyes, the images in his memory as vivid as always. “There is beauty in it, despite everything. Even if its most radiant part resides on Earth right now.” 

For a while, they remain in silence, the far-off sounds of the departure preparations somewhere below them an odd reminder that this moment is not as detached from reality as it feels to Slaine, looking up at the home he had never learned to love and yet risked his life fighting for, from his home of birth, now having transformed into his prison. People always yearn for what is just out of reach, and neither him nor Inaho are exceptions, he knows that well.

“I wonder if the guards enjoyed their vacation. I’m sure they didn’t miss me,” he wonders out loud, half-joking, but Inaho replies earnestly.  
“So far, they’ve never complained about you, either, though.”  
“I don’t think they’d dare complain to you, General.”

“It’s getting cool,” Inaho then states apropos nothing, abruptly dropping the previous topic and folding his arms over his chest to ward off the chill, throwing a surreptitious glance towards the doors leading back to the inside of the ship. “It’s going to be winter, soon.”  
“Where I’m going, I won’t notice.”  
Slaine says it lightly, not intending it to sound bitter, but he realises how it must have come across, and smiles. Thankfully, Inaho is not someone who is easily impressed by guilt-tripping, instead keeping up the conversation as if there was nothing unusual to it. Maybe, there is not, really, their strange situation as natural to them as it would be completely surreal to others.

“It’ll be spring where I return to.”  
“Ah, right. You’ll have the famous cherry blossoms in Japan about now, right? I’m sure Asseylum would love to see that.” He smiles at the thought. “So, what are you going to do now? There’s only 34 more Clans left, even if all of them would start rebelling again, I’m sure you could defeat them all within a month. You must be bored, really.”  
“It’s not only them giving the UFE trouble. In the chaos of the war scattered factions took the opportunity to try and overthrow the systems on earth, just as it happened after the First Interplanetary War as well. And there’s way too much military tech left in the hands of people we don’t really want it to have. There’s still a lot to be done.”  
“You’re a busy man, I see.” Slaine smiles and leans back against the railing again. The cool night air is nice against his arm that still feels oddly warm, even though the medicine had done its job of leaving him pleasantly numb, a luxury he had not had in the past. “Make sure your agenda fits in the occasional visit just so that I can monitor and warn you once you approach burn-out syndrome for real.”

Inaho does not reply, and when Slaine turns his head to check on why there is no comeback, he sees that the other is frowning, the look in his eye distant, the way Slaine has learned it is when he is debating something in his analytical mind. He is about to ask when Inaho looks straight at him, his words coming slightly faster than usual, almost as if he wants to voice them before he can second-guess his decision.  
“What would you do if you were free?“ 

Slaine blinks, and feels his lips pull into a lopsided smile.  
“That’s plain cruel of you to ask. You know as well as me I’ll never be free again.”  
“Consider it a hypothetical question, then.“  
Inaho keeps his attention on him in earnest, and Slaine shrugs.  
“I don’t know. There’s nothing I can do to change what I did. I can’t go back to a position as a diplomat or politician, and I don’t think there’s anything I can contribute to rebuilding what I destroyed. There would be no point to me being free.“

“You can always help me.“  
Slaine stares at Inaho for so long in flat disbelief at the audacity of this suggestion that he actually manages to make him avert his eye, staring at some distant point on the horizon when he starts talking again.  
“I can’t allow you to escape and live a life devoid of penance for what you did. But if I had to pick anyone as my second in command, be it now or in the future, it would be you.“  
“Shouldn’t you rather pick someone you wholeheartedly trust and have no history of murder attempts with? Your sister maybe?”  
“Can’t do that. Anti-nepotism laws,” Inaho replies earnestly, and Slaine is only able to suppress the urge of rubbing his temples because of the cast on his arm, “And my other friends aren’t in the military any longer.” 

“So, anti-nepotism laws bother you, but employing your former greatest enemy does not. You’re not being serious, are you? Have you any idea what you’re saying?“ Slaine pushes himself off the railing and steps in front of Inaho, forcing him to meet his eyes again. Inaho does so with a defiant look on his face.  
“I do. Though, of course I could understand if you don’t want to remain under my watch constantly and risk your life in battles that aren’t yours to fight, and prefer returning to the safe-house.“  
“It’s not even about what I would want or not. You would never get approval of the military for this,“ Slaine argues, shaking his head.  
Inaho shrugs, looking as if he could not care less.  
“I’m positive I can,” he announces with that weird tone of utter confidence in himself, before adding decidedly: “And even if not, Asseylum definitely will.“

“Asseylum,” Slaine echoes, his chest feeling tighter at the mere mention of the name as usual. “She doesn’t know about this arrangement, so-”  
“You will approve of her request to see you, and you will tell her.”  
It is not a proposition, Slaine notes, but an order.  
“I can’t-”  
“I’ve respected your wishes not to see anyone because of what I consider irrevocable human rights until now, but at this point, I say you’re harming yourself with your self-imposed isolation and elect to overrule your decisions,” Inaho declares vehemently, and now it is Slaine who is happy to look down over Inaho’s shoulder at the random soldiers reloading the ship. “Talk to her. Talk to Klancain. Talk to Princess Lemrina. Stop being so stubborn, Slaine.”

“ _You_ of all people don’t get to call others stubborn, Inaho,” Slaine tries to deflect the topic of conversation, hunching up his shoulders slightly and practically feeling Inaho stare at him, radiating determination.  
“If you already think I’m more stubborn than you, just give up,” he retaliates. “Drop your act of self-chastening and take my offer to come with me. It’s not freedom, but it’s the closest to it I can provide right now.” 

“I can’t accept it,“ Slaine says, quietly, trying to not even let the thought of how much he wishes all of it would be as easy as Inaho pretends it is seep into his thoughts. It would be pure cruelty, starting to believe in a new chance of freedom and forgiveness just to have it yanked away, and even though he is certain Inaho is not doing it on purpose, he does not want to let it come that far. He had prepared himself for this short time spent on this ship, always with the certainty in mind that it would be a one time only encounter, and it had been comforting to know that even if things were to go horribly wrong, nothing would change for him. He would return to the confinement of his surveilled residence for the remainder of his life, and that was all.

“Why not?”  
Inaho sounds genuinely as if he does not understand, exasperated and slightly annoyed. He is not used to not getting his way, Slaine thinks with a dash of amusement, but still answers earnestly.  
“My involvement has brought nothing but disaster so far, and if anyone apart from your loyal friends ever hears you so much as even made this offer to someone the general public would love to see hanged if they learned was still alive at all, it would create a rift you’ll never be able to close again.”  
“That will be my problem to handle, and I’ll do so if it ever comes to it. It has nothing to do with you agreeing or no.” 

Slaine shakes his head.  
“I told you, it’s impossible. They will never agree to it, and it’s better this way.”  
“In an infinite universe, nothing is impossible,” Inaho disagrees, and Slaine wonders for a second whether Kaizuka Inaho was one to believe in miracles, then. “Looking at the statistic chances, one could have said it was impossible for Asseylum to cross our path, and for you to rescue us just in the nick of time, and for me to survive a headshot, and for us to meet again. And yet, it happened. Trust me, I would not ask if I wasn’t confident that I could follow up my words. I’m not one for empty promises.”

He knows he is fighting a losing battle here, infuriating as it may be, because rationally, just saying yes and let Inaho run against iron walls of refusal will not cost him anything. And yet the mere act of putting his faith into the other’s insane operation requires an incredible effort of mental strength.  
“Prepare yourself for a rare defeat, then,” he warns Inaho, instead of giving a proper reply, but he knows the other understands, anyway.  
“It won’t be.” It sounds like an unshakable truth when Inaho says it, and Slaine sighs, closing his eyes and giving in to the inevitable. “Let’s make it a bet. If I get the higher-ups to agree, you’re coming with me no questions asked. If I don’t, no matter what I try, I’ll get off your case and you can cross me off your visitors list if you truly want to.”

When Slaine opens his eyes, he sees that Inaho is really waiting for him to seal the agreement with a handshake in all seriousness, and he indulges him, biting back a laugh. This entire thing is insane, and he does not even dare ask what Inaho thinks is driving him to do this. Be it the promise to Asseylum, some odd saviour or guilt complex, or simply his rational verdict that they worked together in combat situations well, it does not even matter, and most likely it is a mixture of all of that, and maybe some more. Inaho is not doing this to mock or play a cruel joke on him, Slaine knows that much, and with nothing to lose, casting his lot with the other’s improbable plans is not so much a choice as it is the only option if he wants to avoid a life of complete standstill.

He is not quite expecting Inaho’s next words, however.  
“I’d even let you chose your name next time, if that was your general issue with this proposition.“  
Even after what has now been quite a lot of time he has spent with Kaizuka Inaho, Slaine can still not determine whether the other is serious or joking with this offer, and even worse, maybe he is both. 

“Don’t bother with that of all things,” he replies wearily, and he is not sure if it the painkillers and exhaustion or the fleeting promise of a different future he had just been given, but he feels oddly warm, calm and content. “You know, in the end, I think I’ve developed some weird attachment to it.“  
“Well, then let’s return, Bat.“  
“Where to?“  
“First of all, back inside, because I’m about to catch a cold. Then, back to your prison, for now, while I’ll talk to my superiors.” 

Inaho looks at him with a smile, small but genuine.  
“And then, just maybe, back to the start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>> そして,僕らはゼロに帰る.
> 
> Next chapter will be the final one. Thank you all so much for all your support and patience so far _(:3 」∠)
> 
> Also! Two amazing people gifted this fanfic with two wonderful pieces of fanart! [nozurei](https://twitter.com/Nozurei/status/604920776341487616) on twitter, who I sadly can’t contact for lack of an account - I hope you see this, thank you so very much ;A; Also, again thank you very much [hikariix](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/120528091988/hikariix-fanart-done-for-himmelreichs-fic). Really, this is too much;;


	26. Vs/064 : Retake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s been months, but I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” he says, and remains in horrified silence for the rest of the short exchange._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which the past does not dictate the future._

 “Sixth status report on the ongoing operation Wingspread: the subject’s overall conduct is exemplary. No major incidents to report. No complaints of military personnel on the bases we have been to regarding his work have been brought up to me, either, for a more detailed report on his services please refer to Captain Magbaredge’s report. Supervised cohabitation has also not posed any problems so far. You will find a detailed account of living and medical expenses as well as military equipment in the written report I sent you earlier. It is considerably less than the costs for maintaining the safe-house, if I may point that out.”

Silence follows, and Inaho looks at the two people on the other side of the desk expectantly. As usual, the Admiral himself had bailed on this task, arguing he had more important matters to oversee, and left Häkkinen to deal with it in his place. The man looks as if he has a bad toothache, Inaho thinks, while General Kabak to his left, who he still mainly remembers as the unpleasant person from that specific council meeting over half a year ago, looks as if a toothache would be the smallest of his problems actually.

“It’s been months, but I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” he says, and remains in horrified silence for the rest of the short exchange.

 

“How did it go?”  
Inaho lets the door fall closed and turns left to spot his Lieutenant sitting on one of the window sills, regarding him with that usual mixture of earnest interest and almost polite reservation. Many things had changed between them, but some things probably never would.

“I think they’ve still not warmed up to the idea yet,” he summarises, crossing over to the window himself and looking down into the yard. From this floor, the soldiers scurrying about the main base below are little more than tiny figures, and Inaho wonders how many of them would instantly revolt if they knew what he was doing up here.  
“ _Really_ ,” he hears Slaine drawl from slightly overhead, but the way his voice changes gives away he is smiling.  
“Well, I’ve finally managed to talk them into allowing you to carry a cellphone, in case you get lost,” Inaho continues, turning back and walking down the hallway. As expected, Slaine catches up to his side instantly. “No mobile internet access, of course, and I am to monitor your contacts.”

“There’s not that many, anyway,” Slaine says lightly, but it is not so much bitter as matter-of-factly, and from the way he picks up the pace just a little, straightening his back and not bothering with trying to appear subordinate at all, Inaho can tell he is content.  
“Well, there’s me, and my sister, the Imperial Family when on Earth, Rayet and the others,” Inaho starts counting down the names on his fingers for emphasis, leaving it to Slaine to open the doors for them to pass through as they head towards the elevator. “Oh, and the fifteen or so single officers that have asked me for your number ever since you started following me around and who I promised to give it to once you have your new phone.”  
Slaine’s head snaps around at that, and Inaho takes in the look of complete alarm on his face for a few seconds from the corner of his eye before the elevator doors open with a soft ringing sound and he steps inside.

“I’m joking.”  
Slaine exhales, following him and pressing the ground floor button.  
“Of course.”  
Inaho watches in silence as the numbers on the panel above the door steadily count down. When they pass the first floor, he speaks up again.  
“It’s only been seven so far.”  
Slaine manages to step on his foot just in time before the doors glide open again and he walks into the populated lobby with a friendly and innocent smile on his face, leaving his General to slightly limp behind him.

 

“We need to drop by a store before going back to the apartment,” Slaine announces, slowing down to stop at a red light.  
“What for?”  
Inaho drops his phone into his lap and looks over at his driver, who is tapping on the steering wheel in some rhythm Inaho cannot make out.  
“Your sister asked me to pick up some more of that local pastry I’m not even going to try to pronounce correctly.”  
“When did she do that?” Inaho asks, slightly confused, and Slaine huffs, accelerating again as the light switches to green.

“When you were busy with that video call with that self-proclaimed Major General this morning.”  
“General Major.”  
“Whatever. The one in Chile. She said she didn’t want to interrupt if it was only about food and asked me. Is that so unusual?”  
“Not really,” Inaho admits, shaking his head. “She genuinely likes you, I think.”

Slaine makes a very noncommittal hum at that, brushing some of his hair back as if to distract himself. It is dyed now, because Inaho had decided that given the circumstances, it probably would not be the wisest idea to test what consequences long-term use of Aldnoah powered engines could have on someone’s body in a live experiment.  
“ _Maybe you can switch back to blond at some later point when you’ve become really established in people’s minds as a different person,_ ” he had suggested while towelling Slaine’s hair dry, but only gotten a very muffled hum in return.

“ _This is becoming a weird habit,_ ” Slaine had said later that afternoon upon handing Inaho Asseylum’s necklace back, fingers careful and almost reluctant in letting go.  
“ _It is,_ ” Inaho had admitted, on his part retrieving Slaine’s collateral from where he kept it alongside his Kat gear, returning it to the original owner. “ _I suppose from now on I’ll have to trust it brings luck enough to cover me in battle as well, then.”_  
Slaine had fastened the amulet back around his neck, and looked at Inaho with a challenging smile.  
“ _What do you need luck for as long as you have me to watch your back?”_

“So, what was that person even on about? The _Major General._ ”  
Slaine makes it a point to echo Inaho’s tone perfectly in mock-politeness, and Inaho chuckles.  
“He confirmed he’s willing to hand over all UFE weaponry his militia still has in possession, which is a first step. Seems like he’s not all that eager to risk a Landing Castle invasion at the hand of our allies.”  
“Not that you’d actually greenlight such a strike.”  
It is not even a question. When it comes to military planning, there is hardly ever disagreements between them, Inaho thinks.

“I thought about heading there and overseeing the exchange myself,” he says, turning his head to look out of the window on his side, watching the trees on the roadside pass by, the leaves having changed to autumn colours long since already and littering the sidewalks. “It’ll be spring there.”  
“I’m getting the feeling you’re exploiting your position to travel the world mostly because of your pathetically weak ability to put up with any and all temperatures below twenty degrees Celsius, General,” he hears Slaine taunt. “Really, I’m not sure how you want to survive your trip to Vers end of next year. There’s a reason our uniforms have so many layers, you know.”

“I’m confident we’ll receive the right amount of equipment including clothes along with the shuttle and crew from the Imperial Family,” Inaho replies evenly, and Slaine almost misses a turn, slamming the brakes to still make it, somehow.  
“ _We?_ ”  
“Ah, I forgot to mention it, did I?”  
Inaho turns back from the window, readjusting the safety belts he had been thrown into at that abrupt turn, and he sees Slaine is looking back and forth between him and the street in front with an absolutely incredulous expression.  
“I got clearance for you accompanying me as well today. After all, the Empress in person invited you in specific to come along, too, so it took less arguing than the phone, actually. Maybe they hope you’ll never come back or something.”

“You can’t be serious.”  
“Well, if you don’t want to come, I can ask my sister or the Captain to supervise you in the meantime. If they don’t agree to it, it would be probably back to some form of jail or the other until I’m back, which will be a long while. Just know I won’t make excuses on your behalf to Asseylum, or the Princess for that matter.”

Slaine pulls into a parking spot in front of the store, turns off the engine and for a while just remains sitting, head resting against the steering wheel. His hair obscures his face in that position, and Inaho finds he cannot tell what must be going on in the other’s mind upon hearing these news. He waits patiently until Slaine speaks again, voice soft and laced with that particular brand of nostalgia reserved for things one thought irretrievably lost.  
“I left that planet when I was thirteen, I’d never thought I’d ever go back there.”  
“I won’t force you.”

Slaine sits up again, turning towards Inaho with a smile.  
“How very kind of you, Inaho. But maybe it’s about time I go back. I can’t avoid it forever, I know you won’t let me. _Electing to overrule my basic human rights_ , was it?”  
Inaho is just about to argue on principle alone, but Slaine continues, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door.  
“Also, it’s my duty as your chosen second in command to make sure you don’t accidentally start a war with Vers nobility due to your lack of tact and manners. It would be irresponsible for me to let you go alone.”

Inaho wants to argue that he is far above such basic missteps, but instead gets out of the car and catches up with Slaine. They had long since abandoned the initial rules of who was allowed to lead and Slaine having to wait for the other’s approval for every individual action. It had been nothing but useless restrictions eating into time more effectively spent elsewhere, and Inaho trusted Slaine enough to not do something absolutely stupid. Something Slaine apparently not shares in sentiment, going by his last comment.  
"I’ll make it a point to praise your duteousness to Her Highness and the Princess.”  
“Don’t,” Slaine mutters, obviously uncomfortable, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the clasp of the necklace. Some people had wondered how come the otherwise meticulous and precise Lieutenant is the type to wear his collar open with a loosened tie in order to wear a necklace beneath, but then again, given he was usually accompanied by a very young General in non-standardised cardigans and sporting an eyepatch, they had stopped asking at some point. It is nicer being the odd one out when one had company in that, Inaho had come to realise.

They have already passed the automatic doors of the shop when Slaine adds, in a tone that speaks of over a year of suffering: “Just promise me you won’t make me play chess with you all the way to Vers. It will be _months_. I might actually try and strangle you then, you know, treaty and regulations be damned.”  
“Well, I could also try and teach you Go for a change of pace,” Inaho offers innocently.

 When Slaine stops in the middle of the shop to complain loudly about how _That’s the same difference, Orange_ , startling the clerk behind the counter, Inaho just smiles. Sometimes, it really feels as if they are friends, somehow, despite everything.

 

>>> FINIS.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end - thank all of you so very much for staying around and reading! *(*´∀｀*)
> 
> Final A/N and parting words [here](http://regnumcaelorum.tumblr.com/post/120759794748/redemptio-final-a-n-and-parting-words).


End file.
